


Out Of The Woods

by Cascalence



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Major Series Divergence, Slow Build, Songfic, random inconsequential background OCs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:44:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 31,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cascalence/pseuds/Cascalence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam met Gabriel for the first time in 1993.  He only knew him a few weeks, but Gabe quickly became his best friend.  He was sure, when John came back and pulled him and Dean away, that he'd never see Gabe again.  Luckily for the boys, they're destined to meet more than once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Looking At It Now

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic, ever, and I'm beta-ing my own stuff, and I sincerely apologize in advance.  
> Also, I'm writing this as I go, despite my better judgement, but I really felt a need to go ahead and start posting it. I'll update as often as I can, but I can't guarantee consistent updates. Sorry!  
> Also, this is not yet rated, because I'm not sure just how smutty I'll get with it yet (though I will confess to wanting the smut).

**Chicago, 1993**  
  
How long were they going to be here this time? Sam sighed, packing his backpack. His dad had left him and Dean in a motel, again, and said he’d be back in a few weeks. Which meant just enough time to get to know people at the new school before they’d be moving. …Maybe he shouldn’t bother this time. It wasn’t like he’d ever see any of them again. And Dean was always telling him not to make friends, too.  
  
“How’s mac and cheese for dinner?” Dean asked from the kitchenette. Sam made a face. “No, Dean,” he whined, moving over to his brother. “We’ve had mac and cheese the past two nights. I want something else,” he complained, turning on the puppy eyes.  
  
Dean frowned at Sam, and Sam knew he’d won. “…Fine, I’ll go out, but that means you have to pack up my backpack, too,” Dean spoke with a huff. Sam nodded, accepting the terms of Dean’s surrender.  
  
They’d be starting at their schools in the morning, and fortunately, they were in walking distance. Sam would be going into fifth grade, so he was stuck at the elementary school. Dean, fourteen, was in his freshman year at high school. It just sucked that the schools were in opposite directions from the hotel.  
  
As Sam worked on packing up Dean’s book bag, he lamented over that fact again. He’d have no one to talk to, and school would be even more lonely than usual. Typically, they at least had each other to talk to when they were heading to their schools.  
  
“Sammy!” Dean called out suddenly, kicking their hotel door, making Sam jump. Grabbing a gun from under his pillow, Sam moved over and opened the door just a bit. Seeing that the reason Dean hadn’t opened the door himself was because he was laden with grocery bags, he opened the door the rest of the way, putting the gun on a table by the door and reaching out to take the bags from one of Dean’s hands. Together, they get the bags to the kitchen and unpack. There was more than just food for that night in them…but that night’s meal consisted of Dean’s burgers, which were better every time Dean made them.  
  
After helping Dean clean up, Sam went on to bed, mostly because he was bored. He was asleep before he knew it, and waking up what felt like all-too-soon.  
  
“Cereal’s on, Sammy. Up and at ’em!” Dean spoke, his voice a bit gruff, as it had started to become lately. Sam groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. “Saaammm,” Dean’s voice drew out in warning. That was the, ‘If you don’t get out of bed, I’m going to throw icy cold water on you,’ voice. It was effective; Sam sat up, throwing the pillow in Dean’s general direction before shuffling over to the table. The milk was already on the cereal. “Better not be soggy, Jerk,” he muttered.  
  
“Quit whining like a little bitch and just eat it,” Dean snapped back, apparently not feeling as morning-friendly as he’d been depicting just moments ago. Sam let out a grumble and grudgingly ate the cereal…which was soggy. Great start to the morning.  


**\----**

  
The walk had been as quiet and lonely as Sam had expected. Reaching the school, however, revealed a flurry of activity. Kids being dropped off or walked in by parents, or walking up to the school on their own. There were plenty hanging out up front, sitting and talking with friends before school started. The buses were mostly at the back of the school, with just a few sticking out around the curb to make themselves known.

Sam stopped near the entry walkway, staring around, just watching for a few moments. He wished this was the last time he’d have to change schools, but he knew it was a wish in vain; just a few weeks, and his dad would be back, and they’d be moving on.

With a sigh, Sam adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and headed into the school. Through the doors, the lobby of the school was displayed. It was huge and spacious, with sparse areas to sit, and the artwork of the kindergarteners’ on display. That probably meant the K classes were all near the front entrance. He looked around for a moment, noticing double doors with windows on either side of the lobby. One of those would probably be the library, and the other the office. Taking a guess, he went to the ones on the right, which were both closed (whereas the ones on the left had one door open).

Before he even pulled the doors open, he knew he’d guessed right. He stepped in and up to the desk, waiting to be noticed. “Oh. Well, hi,” the plump woman with too-orange-to-be-natural hair spoke. “Hi. I’m Sam Winchester, I’m starting here today…fifth grade,” he spoke. The woman blinked, looking up and around. “My dad’s working, my mom’s dead, my brother’s at the high school,” Sam said, trying not to be annoyed. The people in the offices always looked for a parent to be with him when he came in.

The words apparently startled the woman, and he saw what he hated worse; pity. And that must’ve shown, because the woman turned away to busy herself. “Alright, looks like you’re in Mrs. Hampshire’s class, room 58. If you go out these doors and straight down that hall right there, it’s near the end,” she said, turning back to Sam. “She’ll have your books ready for you,” the woman said.

Sam gave a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he said, turning and heading for the class.

When he got there, it was…noisy. And that was being kind. But classes for the day hadn’t officially started.

Sam looked around for an empty seat…and the only one he saw had someone’s feet in it. _Please, please don’t be a jerk_ , Sam thought pleadingly as he walked over. The boy was about his height with dirty blonde hair and was grinning as he watched something a girl across the room was doing, a lollipop sticking out of his mouth.

“…Does someone sit here?” he spoke up, watching the other boy as he put his hand on the desk to which the boy had his feet in the chair. It seemed to take a second before the boy’s eyebrows rose and he looked up at Sam. He watched him sharply for a moment before grinning, his feet coming out of the seat.

“I’m guessing you, now,” the boy answered with a mad grin. Something about it had Sam wary. “Chill, dude, I’m all bite, no bark,” the boy all but chirped at Sam’s stare. Sam could only cock an eyebrow before sliding into his new seat.

“So, you’re obviously new…where ya from?” the boy asked, pulling a lollipop from his pocket and holding it to Sam. Sam stared for a few seconds before slowly taking it. “Thanks…and all over. My dad sells insurance, so we move a lot,” Sam answered, the lie coming easy.

The boy’s eyes went all sharp again…calculating, and Sam just stared back at him. “…So you’re telling me to not bothering getting to know you, huh?” he said suddenly.

That wasn’t what Sam expected. Usually, when he told others that line, they tended to ask him about if he liked it, what he saw, so on and so forth. But this boy…he was different from people he’d known before. “What’s your name?” Sam responded, instead of answering his question.

There was a snap from the other side of the classroom, compounded with a wet sound. And then a girl shrieked. Sam blinked and turned in his seat. The girl the boy had been staring at was covered in green goop.

“Name’s Gabe…you’ll hear it a lot,” Gabe said with a grin in his voice, just before the girl shrieked his name, eyes darting past Sam to the apparent culprit in her sliming.

It was awful. …It was awesome. Sam turned back to Gabe, then graced him with a grin. “I’m Sam,” he greeted.


	2. It All Seems So Simple

The next morning, when Sam and Dean walked out of the hotel room, Gabe was standing at the edge of the hotel parking lot. Dean spotted him a few seconds after Sam and frowned. Gabe’s back was to them as he watched cars driving by, so he didn’t notice. “…Who’s he, Sammy?” he asked, looking at the ten year old. Sam looked up at Dean, hazel eyes meeting green. “He’s in my class.”

“You tell him we’re staying here?” Dean asked. Sam could see, in the edges of his vision, Dean’s fingers twitching. Sam debated with himself for barely a moment before he nodded. “He’s okay, Dean,” he said, hoping it was true. Because he hadn’t told Gabe where they stayed, and he didn’t know how Gabe knew.

“…Turn around,” Dean said. Sam obeyed and felt Dean tucking something--a silver knife, no doubt--into a pocket on his backpack. He patted Sam’s back, just as Gabe turned around. “Stay safe, Sammy,” his older brother spoke, before heading off.

Sam watched him for a moment before going over to Gabe. “Hey…how’d you know where to find me?” he asked. Gabe, grinning all the while Sam had walked over, just beamed even more beatifically. “There’s only two apartments in walking distance of the school in this direction, and I live in one of ‘em. Old Mrs. Miller’s in the other. Knew you had to be here,” he announced, like he was the most brilliant detective to ever exist.

Sam relaxed considerably and breathed a laugh, then nudged Gabe. “Alright, so why are you here?” he asked, starting to walk. At that, Gabe’s smile suddenly lacked that mischievous joy it always seemed to encompass, instead becoming shy. “I wanted someone to walk to school with…I’m always walking to school by myself,” he admitted. Sam couldn’t help but smile at that.

“I’m used to walking to school with Dean, but the high school is in the other direction,” he confessed with a weak smile. This brought Gabe’s smile back to full force. “Well, I’m your walking partner now, Sammy-boy!” he announced. Sam laughed a bit and smiled back, and they spent the walk talking about all the awesome pranks Gabe had pulled so far this school year. Sam found himself wishing he could’ve seen some of them.

**\---**

The day passed quickly, even if Gabe kept distracting Sam from his schoolwork. Sam didn’t mind it too badly…he knew most of what they were going over already. This school seemed a bit behind his others.

When the teacher dismissed them for the day, Gabe looked over at Sam. “Wanna come over to my place?” he invited with a grin, bouncing in his seat and not bothering to pack his things up just yet. Sam blinked and looked up at Gabe. “…Uh, not today. Maybe tomorrow, if that’s okay? I’ve gotta okay it with my brother first,” he said.

“Oh, come on, he’s not gonna mind,” Gabe protested. Sam shook his head. “My dad is out of town right now, and Dean’ll be pissed if I go somewhere without telling him first,” Sam objected. Gabe full-out pouted and pulled a sucker from his desk, opening it and popping it into his mouth, like the piece of hardened sugar was a security blanket. “Fine. Wait for me, though, I’m walking with you,” he spoke stubbornly, standing and starting to pack up his things as well.

**\---**

“For the last time, Sammy, no. Not unless I test him first,” Dean spoke stubbornly as they ate the canned pasta dinner. “Dean, you can’t just cut him with a silver blade! It’d be way too suspicious!” Sam objected, yet again. They’d been over this at least five time already. This time, though, Dean seemed to get that Sam really wanted to be friends with Gabe, and he was silent in thought for a few long moments.

“So we get a Gatorade, and I’ll put some salt and silver flecks in it. Make him drink it,” Dean finally says, and honestly, it’s the best solution that Sam had ever heard. Salt and silver covered a broad range of the supernatural, and putting it in Gatorade made more sense than water, which would do absolutely nothing to cover the taste. “That’d work…fruit punch would probably be the best flavor. Gabe really likes sweet stuff,” he supplied. “Alright…have him come over tomorrow, then,” Dean said, ending the conversation.

**\---**

Gabe was by their door when they walked out the next morning, and he beamed at the brothers. “Gabriel Gardener,” he introduced to Dean, holding out his hand. Dean slowly took his hand, eyeing Gabe like he’d bite his hand off if Dean so much as blinked. “Dean Winchester,” he said, knowing full well that his last name carried weight in the monster world.

When Gabe didn’t so much as blink, just shake his hand and let go, Dean cast a glance at Sam. The wordless communication told Sam to be careful all the same, and Dean walked off without another word.

“Well, your brother’s just all kinds of fuzzy warmth, isn’t he?” Gabe quipped. “Sorry. Uh…Dean’s just…suspicious of new people?” Sam offered weakly. Gabe’s sharp amber eyes turn on Sam, and it’s all of half a second before he speaks again. “Suspicious enough that you’re not coming over after school?” he asked.

Sam’s smile is strained, and he knows it. “…Yeah. Actually, he wants you to come hang out with us, so he can get to know you a bit before he gives the okay,” he said, staring down at the ground as they walked almost shyly. Sam kind of hoped Gabe would be okay with this, because he really wanted to be friends with him, even if Dean was just covering their asses. “That’s cool, sure,” Gabe said. Something in his tone made Sam look up, eyes narrowing at the too-innocent grin on Gabe’s face. “I’m not sure it’d be a good idea to play tricks on Dean,” he said, though his lips were twisted into a smirk that betrayed the barrier he was trying to set. He’d love to play some pranks on his big brother.

Gabe gave a slow, almost owlish blink. “Tricks? I wouldn’t do that!” he protested, but he was already grinning when he finished speaking, and Sam could feel his answering grin on his on face.

By the time they reached the school, they were already talking about super glue, plastic wrap, and cayenne pepper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know that Sam wouldn't lie to Dean about telling Gabe where he lived, if he were older. I'm acting on the principle that he's ten years old, wants a friend, and doesn't really know better just yet.


	3. Chapter 3

It was really no surprise that Gabriel’s backpack was a veritable treasure trove of prank-related items. They got to the hotel before Dean, which was no surprise. Sam knew Dean would be stopping to get drinks, and to spike Gabe’s. In the meantime, Sam was treated to Gabe working his craft.

And work it, he did.

The cling wrap over the toilet seat was the first. “It’s a classic, Sammy! Can’t ignore the classics!” Gabe had crowed. Cayenne in Dean’s shower gel was the second one. Really, Sam shared the shower gel with Dean, but he could use a bar of the hotel soap instead.

Next up on the list was Dean’s bed. Itching powder. Sam felt like that was overkill. First Dean would shower with the cayenne-laced shower gel, then he’d try to sleep in the itching-powder filled bed. But the thought of Dean’s irritated and grumpy fussing had Sam keeping silent. It’d be hilarious, in the end.

Oh, but the itching powder wasn’t just for the bed. Gabe laced the drawer that Dean kept his underwear in with the itching powder, too. Sam couldn’t help but snort at that, causing Gabe to flash him a mirth-filled grin.

Gabriel went back to the bed, to lace the pillows with the powder, too. And before Sam could stop him, Gabe had found the gun under Dean’s pillow. “Uh, safety. Dad worries,” Sam had said. It seemed like Gabe had bought that…but then he lifted the other pillow and found the knife. It had raised Gabe’s suspicions high enough that Gabe suddenly set aside the pranks and opened Dean’s nightstand drawer. Another gun was in there and Sam tensed when Gabe looked up at him.

Gabe wasn’t smiling. In fact, Sam really couldn’t read Gabe’s expression.

And then Gabe was by Sam’s bed, reaching under his pillow. “Gabe, wait—“ he said, but Gabriel pulled the gun out, staring at it. And when Sam stepped forward, trying to come up with an excuse, Gabe suddenly pointed it at him. Sam froze, terror gripping him.

“What are you guys, really? Serial killers?” Gabriel demanded.

“No! No, Gabe, please…. Look, just…put it back before Dean gets here. I’ll tell you, I swear I will, but don’t let him see this,” Sam pleaded. Gabriel didn’t get it. He’d never mentioned brothers or sisters, so Sam was pretty sure Gabe couldn’t understand. But if Dean walked in and saw this, he’d kill Gabriel, human or not.

Gabe didn’t lower the gun. Sam bounced on one foot for a second before breathing out carefully. “The safety is on,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t hear anything, and when he opened his eyes, Gabe was squinting at the gun. …He didn’t even know what a safety looked like. Sam breathed out a sigh of relief. “Listen, Gabe…you’re not going to believe me, but…my Dad, Dean, and I…we hunt…things,” he said. Gabe’s eyes went back up to Sam.

“…Things? Like deer? I’m pretty sure you don’t hunt deer with pistols, Sammy,” Gabe said. Sam looked away and shook his head. “Not deer. Werewolves. Vampires, ghosts, anything that hurts people,” he said.

There was silence for the space of about five hurried heartbeats, and then Gabriel was laughing. Sam looked over, staring at him. The gun was on the bed, though, and Sam was pretty sure the situation was being diffused. In fact, Gabe didn’t react when Sam walked over and pushed the gun back up under his pillow, or when he walked around, straightening up Dean’s side of the room.

“Pre-pretty sure you can’t shoot a ghost, Sam,” Gabe laughed, finally calming enough for words. Sam looked up at Gabriel. Gabe needed to believe, or he’d be questioning the weapons, and might even tell someone.

“No, not with bullets. Rock salt rounds work. Iron, too. Best thing to get rid of one for good, though, is digging up the grave, salting and burning the bones,” he said. 

That killed Gabe’s laughter entirely. He stared at Sam blankly. And then the lock in the door sounded. Sam’s eyes widened. “Don’t let him know I told you,” he spoke in a hushed voice to Gabe, grabbing the itching powder and hiding it back in Gabe’s backpack. The door opened and Gabe…Gabe was laying back across Sam’s bed, looking up at Dean without a care in the world. “If it isn’t tall, dark, and broody!” Gabe greeted with a grin.

Dean stared at Gabe, giving a faint frown. “Gabriel,” he greeted, seemingly just-barely allowing his presence. He had a bag from a convenience store and set it on the table, taking out a Sprite. He opened it and handed it to Sam. “Thanks, Dean,” Sam said, taking it and swallowing a couple of gulps. As he did, Dean took the Gatorade out and opened it. It didn’t make the popping plastic noises that an unopened bottle should make, and that told Sam it was already laced with silver and salt. Dean walked over to Gabe, holding it out.

Gabriel sat up and took it. “Thanks, Dean-o,” he said. But he set it aside.

Sam tensed, as did Dean. Gabriel noticed and looked back and forth at them. Sam gave Gabriel a pointed look, then looked at the drink. And prayed, over and over, that Gabe wouldn’t give away that Sam had told him the truth.

“Uh…so what’s for dinner?” Gabe said suddenly. He stood and picked the Gatorade back up, staring at Dean as he took a swallow and waited for an answer. Dean just stared and slowly relaxed when Gabe only frowned at the bottle. “They change the formula for the Gatorade?” he spoke aloud.

“Uh…think I heard something about it on the news,” Sam supplied, avoiding Gabe’s questioning eyes. “Yeah…yeah. Uh, you’re staying for dinner? Probably burgers or spaghetti,” Dean spoke, moving and grabbing a Pepsi from the bag for himself.

“Either sounds good to me,” Gabe said, giving a huge grin. Dean nodded, then set his soda down. “I’m gonna run to a store and grab some stuff, then,” he said. He looked over at Sam. “Sammy, you have a preference?”

“Spaghetti. We had burgers the other night,” he answered. “Yeah, but we had Spaghetti-o’s last night,” Dean countered. Sam couldn’t help but smile. Dean wanted to cook burgers again. “Okay, so burgers,” he said. Dean nodded, satisfied, and soon was out the door.

“Dean’s okay with you,” Sam told Gabe. Gabriel nodded, heading for his backpack. “So what was in my drink?” he asked as he dug around. Sam tilted his head. “Uh…uhm, silver and salt,” he said quietly.

Gabriel stood with a small capsule in his hand. “Dude, I’d tell you if I wasn’t human,” he objected. Sam shook his head. “No, you really wouldn’t. In fact, if you weren’t human, I’d probably have been dead as soon as you made as hunters,” Sam spoke. They were both quiet, and after a second, Sam added, “Actually, as soon as you heard my last name.”

Gabriel looked over at Sam from making his way to Dean’s abandoned soda. “What, your family’s famous in the world of ghoulies and goblins?” Gabe asked, tilting his head. “Actually, uh…yeah. We’ve been in this since I was six months old, so…a little over ten years. Dad’s good,” he said. “Cool,” Gabe said, opening the capsule and pouring the liquid into the soda. “What’s that do?” Sam asked.

Gabe grinned madly. “Turns piss purple,” he said. It took Sam a second to understand the grin, though. It wasn’t just because Dean’s urine would be purple, but also because when Dean went to relieve himself, the plastic wrap would have it splashing all over him. Sam chuckled, and Gabe’s grin became less devious and more jovial. “Dinner is going to be interesting,” he told Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point, not exactly sure when, the ease with which Gabriel accepted what Sam said about hunting and monsters being real will be addressed.  
> Sorry for any implausibility.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn’t long before Dean came back, and he pulled Sam and Gabe into the kitchen to help him cook. They didn’t have to do too much, and it became apparent that Dean wanted to keep an eye on them. So they mostly talked about Gabriel as they drank the drinks Dean had brought earlier.

It was this way that Sam learned Gabriel had been in foster care until last year, when he’d been adopted. Dean watched Gabe with an odd look when it was revealed that the younger boy had been adopted by not two parents, but one. Single parent adoptions weren’t all that common.

“Isn’t that like…hard to do? A single person adopting or whatever?” Dean voiced after a couple of quiet minutes.

“Yeah…but Joshua…we get along real well. I mean…I’ve been passed through all sorts of homes, met all sorts of adults, and kids. Joshua…he’s the only one that.... God, it sounds lame, but he…understands who I am,” Gabe said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. Sam and Dean both looked at Gabriel and the boy shifted, unwilling to elaborate. It was obvious; Sam and Dean wanted to know what Gabe meant. When he didn’t speak up, however, Sam relented, looking at Dean. “Let it go. And quit burning the burgers,” Sam said. Dean looked back at Sam with a frown. “You’re burning the burgers,” he came back lamely, and Gabe let out a sudden laugh.

The laugh drew Sam and Dean’s attention back to Gabe, mainly because it didn’t stop. It kept coming. Dean looked like he didn’t know what to make of it, but Sam did. Sam knew, because sometimes Dean got like that when he came back from a hunt with their dad. He’d start laughing and couldn’t stop, even if he refused to recognize it as a problem. It was the kind of laugh that was twenty percent relief, eighty percent stress release.

It made Sam worry suddenly, but he just smiled and pulled Gabe from the kitchen. Dean gave a small protest, but Sam easily ignored him. He set Gabe on his bed, sitting beside him.

It took until dinner was ready, and Dean was handing over food, for the laughter to subside. Dean sat on his own bed, turning on the TV as he started to eat.

Sam hadn’t even started chewing his first bite before Gabe spoke. “You’re like Joshua,” he said, barely audible. Sam halted, looking at Gabe. When Gabe looked up at Sam, his lips were twisted into a smile, but his eyes held a depth of pain. Sam found himself swallowing the barely-chewed food in his mouth, and it scraped his throat all the way down. “Gabe, I’m—“ “Leaving. I know. But things are different around you, just like with my dad,” Gabriel responded, looking down at his burger for a moment before picking it up.

And then there was a curse from the bathroom. When Dean had gone in there, Sam wasn’t sure. He hadn’t noticed. But it broke the tension, and the two younger boys grinned at each other.

**\---**

Gabe left an hour later. It took so long for him to leave because he wouldn’t stop pestering Dean. Gabriel had bravely demanded that Sam be allowed to stay the night at his home after school the next day. Dean, still pissed over the double prank of his purple urine and cling-wrapped toilet seat, had stubbornly said no.

Or he had until Gabriel had insinuated that there were other pranks lying in wait, Dean scratching at his palms and arms. Dean’s eyes narrowed. “…Okay, fine, Sammy can stay over, tomorrow night only, if you tell me every last trap you set, you little shit,” he’d said.

“Hey, don’t be a jerk!” Sam spoke when Dean cursed at Gabe. “Whatever, bitch,” Dean responded easily, before staring at Sam. “I can’t believe you just let him set this shit up, either,” he said, a faint note of betrayal in his tone. Sam full out scowled at Dean and promptly ignored him.

“Alright,” Gabriel suddenly piped up, watching Dean as he absently scratched with no minor amount of amusement. He grinned suddenly, chest puffing out just a bit. He was clearly proud of himself. “You might want to think about a new bottle of body soap, Dean-o…and a change of sheets,” he declared, unable to resist adding a wink.

Dean’s scratching slowed, and his eyes narrowed for a moment before widening. “You put itching powder in my bed?!” he demanded loudly, realizing why his arms felt like he’d stumbled into poison ivy. Gabe turned an easy smirk to Sam. “Catches on quick, doesn’t he?” he spoke, with a tone that suggested otherwise.

Dean’s aggression was radiating into the room. “Fine. Now get out,” he snapped. “Ah-ah, Ken doll. There’s one more, but I’m leaving that one to Sammy here,” Gabriel spoke. Sam understood why, before Dean even turned to look at him. “I’m going to Gabriel’s tomorrow, Dean, or I’m not telling you,” Sam suddenly told him. It was easy enough for Dean to lie to Gabriel, but he lived with Sam, and Sam could make him suffer for it.

When Dean suddenly released a loud curse, it was clear he’d been ready to renege on his end of the deal. “Yes, fine, what else?!” Dean clipped out. “Go buy some fresh underwear, Dean. Yours need to be washed,” Sam told him. Dean turned a glare on Gabe, and then was stomping out of the hotel room.

Once the door slammed behind him, Gabriel started laughing maniacally. “Oh, man, your brother is an easy target!” he declared, grinning broadly at Sam.

“Yeah, well, you better go before he gets back, or he might dig out his machete and chop off one of your hands or something,” Sam told him with a small smile. Gabe paused at that for half a second, then nodded, leaving with a few words about seeing Sam at school the next day.

**\---**

Sam was exhausted when he dropped into his seat. His dad had called at two in the morning and told them that his current hunt was over, but he had a lead on something else. It gave them an extra week in Chicago, and Sam hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, both excited and distressed. He had another week to stay somewhere, to get to know people. But he was upset over it, because it meant he’d miss the people he got to know all the more.

“Wow, Sammy…did Dean keep you up all night whining or something?” Gabe spoke as he dropped into his seat next to Sam. Sam looked over at the other boy and pulled a pretty big smile. At least things would be fun while he was here. Gabriel made things fun. “Dad called last night. We’ve got another week here, so…I’m here for another two and a half, I think,” he said with a forced smile.

Gabriel blinked. “Wow…sounds like you don’t stick around places that long usually,” he said. Sam shook his head. “It’s kinda rare,” he admitted. And then he remembered one of the things he’d thought about while he’d been unable to sleep.

Sam pinned Gabe with a sharp look. “Why didn’t you freak out when I told you about…you know,” he said, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. “About…oh!” Gabe said. “I’ve seen a ghost. Across the street where I live. She’s in the same window, every night. Just stands there…I actually timed it a few times. She stands there for three hours and thirty three minutes, then she turns from the window. …If you’re close enough to the house after that, you hear a lot of noise,” he said with a shrug, looking away as though embarrassed. Sam didn’t get that, but he nodded.

“Sounds like a residual. She’s reliving her death, basically. There’s two types…residual and intelligent. The intelligent ones are usually the dangerous ones,” Sam said with a shrug. And then he noticed the look of pure, excited awe on Gabriel’s face. “So…so that whole…iron, and salt and burn thing…that really works?” he asked. When Sam nodded, Gabe spoke up again. “So can we try it out?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me longer than my previous chapters; I've been sick the past few days. Not only that, but I kept second guessing some of what I was writing. I still kinda am, but I decided to just accept it and post it.  
> And, as usual, sorry for any implausibility. Also, for any general crappiness in what I wrote...I wasn't in my best form when I wrote it, and I did try to edit it, but I'm not certain how well that went.


	5. We Were Lying On Your Couch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's some flowers mentioned in here, and just to be clear, we're currently in early February in the story. Which means winter. The flowers mentioned have varieties that bloom in the winter.

Sam gaped at Gabe. He could feel his mouth working, but there was no sound, no formation of words. It was just as Gabriel’s smile started to slip that the teacher showed, calling the class to attention. Thankful for a reason to avoid answering the question, Sam turned his full attention to the front of the class.

Or looked to be turning his full attention to the front of the class. He was just facing in that direction. His mind was racing. Gabriel wanted to…to do a salt and burn. To do a hunt. Sam didn’t know what to think, but he’d heard Dean, on more than one occasion, call hunting a “fucked up excuse for a lifestyle.” Of course, Dean only said that when he’d managed to sneak a few beers, but Sam found himself in agreement.

…But it was just a salt and burn. Just one. And it was on a residual! It was pretty safe, really…and digging up a grave would show Gabe that there wasn’t anything glamorous about being a hunter.

Time, a pretty big chunk of it, had passed by the time he made the decision. The lunch bell went off and Sam looked at Gabriel to find the other boy already staring at him. Sam couldn’t really read his expression, but he was guessing Gabe felt cautious after Sam’s earlier reaction.

“…So the first thing we need to do is figure out who died in the house,” he told Gabriel.

Gabriel’s smile came back in full force. “Awesome!” he said, standing so they could head to the cafeteria. “So how do we find that out?” he asked as Sam walked alongside him to the cafeteria.

“Library, research. County records, to be more specific…look at deeds for that property, along with census records and obits. It sounds like a lot, but if the library has managed to convert those archives to be accessed on a computer, it’ll be easier, and either way, it won’t take all that long,” Sam told him.

“…That sounds boring,” Gabriel said with a small frown.

He couldn’t help a chuckle escaping him. “Wait until your hands are blistered from digging up the grave. I’ve actually gotten blisters through gloves before,” Sam confessed.

Despite Gabe’s frown deepening, he didn’t change his mind. They ate lunch and went back to class, and when school was over, Gabriel gathered his bag and waited on Sam. 

“Come on, we’ll take one of the buses to the library,” he said, grinning once again.

Sam shouldered his backpack and followed after him. “How far is your house from the library?” he asked.

“Just a few blocks, but it’d be faster to catch a ride there and walk back,” Gabe answered, leading Sam to the back of the school. They followed a current of students out of double doors before Gabriel headed to one of the ugly yellow behemoths. Sam followed, though he honestly had always hated buses and didn’t want to be on one.

Gabe spoke with the driver for a moment when they got on, and the driver nodded before they took their seats. “He’s going to stop right beside the library for us,” he told him. It meant they wouldn’t have to walk from another stop to get to it. Sam smiled and gave a nod, watching as more and more people piled onto the bus.

**\---**

It took two hours to track down all the information regarding their little case. Sam had done a good portion of the work while Gabe had gone and called Joshua to let him know they were doing research at the library for a history project, and they’d be there soon enough.

Gabe then took to happy sucking on a lollipop that just happened to be in his pocket, looking around boredly while Sam worked.

“Okay, so get this,” Sam finally spoke. Gabriel eagerly sat forward, dropping his feet off the table and bringing his gaze down from the ceiling. “Andrea Barr apparently committed suicide at age thirty-four after learning that her son, Lucas, had drowned in the lake earlier that day,” he said.

Gabriel tilted his head. “Ooo-kay. But…Sam, the sounds I heard involved screaming. Why would she scream if she was killing herself?” he asked.

Much as he’d rather not watch some poor, grieving ghost reliving their last moments, Sam suggested so anyway, “The only way to find out is to see.”

Gabriel didn’t really look like he liked that idea, either. But he nodded. “Alright. She doesn’t do her thing till after eleven, so we’ve got time to eat dinner and stuff,” he said, standing.

Sam nodded, standing and shouldering his backpack that also held his overnight necessities. They then walked the two and a half blocks to Gabe’s home.

When they reached the slim building, Sam paused, looking it over. It almost looked like a standalone townhouse, with how thin it was. Vinyl siding, a soft cream color that was somehow impeccably clean, was framed by skeletons of bushes, dormant in the winter. Toward the sides of the small yard, however, were some strange looking bushes with decidedly beautiful red flowers on them. Gabriel started up the sidewalk, which was lined with bushes of witch hazel. The bushes were somehow small, despite witch hazel usually being a bulky plant. “What flowers are those?” Sam asked as he followed after Gabriel.

Gabriel looked at Sam, then over at the bushes on the edge of the property. “Oh…quince or something like that. Joshua really loves to plant stuff. You oughta see the backyard,” Gabe said, flashing Sam a grin.

The front door opened as they neared it, and an older, dark-skinned man gave them both a warm smile. “Hey, boys. Just in time for dinner,” he said.

Gabriel took a deep breath and beamed. “Fried chicken and sweet potato mash! You rock, Dad,” he said, hugging Joshua for a moment before stepping past him.

When Joshua turned his gaze on to Sam, the boy felt like squirming for some reason. The man seemed nice enough, but something…it was difficult to explain. It was as if something about Joshua had Sam both in awe, and wanting to make sure the older man knew he was respected.

“Thank you for allowing me over, and feeding me dinner,” Sam said, not exactly sure what else to say. All the same, Joshua gave him a warm smile.

“Chaenomeles,” he said suddenly. Sam tilted his head in confusion, and Joshua gestured to the red-flowering bushes that Sam had asked Gabe about. “Also known as flowering quince. The blossoms vary in color most of the time…this year, they came in red,” Joshua said, his tone warm.

Sam found himself staring at the flowers for a long moment before he snapped out of it. “They’re lovely,” he said. Sam said it not just to compliment Joshua, but because it was true…at least, it was for Sam. They weren’t the conventional sort of beautiful, but Sam truly admired them.

“Thank you, son. Now, come on in, before Gabriel eats all of the food,” the gardener responded with a chuckle. Sam nodded and walked into the house. And it was…different. He blinked and looked around, unable to place what he felt after crossing the threshold. But it was warm and happy, or content maybe, unlike anything he’d ever known. He was drawn out of the alien sensation by a small clap on his back before Joshua moved past him, fussing at Gabriel about eating more than just the sweet potatoes.

Sam joined them at the table and ate, warmth and happiness seeping into him as the meal went on. When they were done eating, the boys were dismissed and Gabriel led the way to the living room, plopping onto the sofa.

A few hours passed as they sat there, relaxing. Joshua said his goodnights and went on to bed. Shortly after, Gabriel looked over at Sam. “The shed out back has shovels and rock salt…and there’s some matches in the kitchen,” he told him.

Sam nodded. “Alright. It’d be easier if we had gas, too, but she’s been dead long enough to burn pretty easily, I think,” he responded, standing and walking toward the front of the house.

After a moment, Gabriel followed after Sam, who was now standing at the window toward the front. “She’s standing there,” Sam confirmed, and Gabriel peeked around him. “Ready to go see what happened?” he asked, looking at his friend.

“Yeah. Let’s get going,” Gabriel confirmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To tie in with the notes at the beginning of the chapter, I should also inform you all that I did a search for these flowers by what bloomed in winter, and chose the flowering bushes based on appearance. They fit pretty well, however.


	6. I Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for going like a week without posting, you guys. It's my preference that I post every two-three days, but I got sick, again. Different sick this time...nasty head cold. I'm still recovering and coughing my lungs out, but I'll make it.  
> So...yeah, recovering from sick again. If there's any suckiness here, I blame that.

Getting out of Gabriel’s house was harder than getting into the old house across the street. Of course, Gabe was just fascinated with Sam’s lock picking skills. “Dean taught me how last summer. I’ll teach you some time,” Sam had said, just to quiet Gabriel’s awed noises.

When they got upstairs in the house, they found the departed Ms. Barr still standing at the window. Only now, they could hear her. There were sniffles, sighs, and small anguished sounds, accompanied by, “Why my baby?” on occasion.

Finally, time was up, and she turned from the window, wiping at her eyes. She didn’t see either of the boys standing beside the door as she walked past them. Not that Sam expected it, but Gabriel had tensed as she had turned. “Come on,” Sam said, following after the grieving ghost.

The boys followed her to outside the bathroom, where she paused. “What the hell?” the ghost murmured. Sam frowned, peering around her. She was staring at the tub, which was empty, though stained. When she continued forward, he and Gabriel followed her in. She sat on the side of the tub and reached down into it. There was the sound of water, as if the tub was filled…and then she was suddenly yanked down into the tub. There were screams, shouts, splashes as she attempted to pull herself free of the tub…then nothing. The ghost vanished, ending its cycle.

“…Sam? I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a suicide,” Gabriel spoke up after a few long moments of them just staring at the tub.

“No. That was a murder…most likely by another ghost, one seeking revenge. Vengeful spirits…they’re really bad, and really powerful,” Sam spoke.

“…Her son didn’t drown on accident, did he?” Gabriel spoke up.

Sam turned to look at Gabe, only to see those too-sharp, honey-colored eyes already staring at him. “I don’t know, to be honest…but probably not. It doesn’t matter, though. This happened a long time ago. All we can do is salt and burn her bones. She won’t have to relive this anymore,” he said.

Gabriel nodded, and then led the way out of the house. They went to the shed behind his home, Sam marveling over what little of the garden he could see in the dark, and they grabbed shovels and a bag of rock salt. Sam had a book of matches from the hotel, so they were good on that front, too.

After he gave Gabriel the name of the cemetery, they walked the six blocks to it. They were quiet at first, but soon were teasing each other about who’d be calling uncle from the digging first.

Needless to say, Gabriel was all but crying out uncle, collapsing to the ground after only two feet of dirt. “In Dean’s words, wuss,” Sam accused with a teasing grin, keeping at it.

It was almost one in the morning before they had the coffin open. Sam poured the salt, and let Gabriel light the matchbook up, instructing him to light one match and touch it to all the others before he tossed it in on the body.

“Uhg…this stinks,” Gabriel let out as they watched.

“This is nothing. I’ve smelled so much worse, believe me,” Sam replied.

“I’m sure you have. Just how bad is it when Dean takes off his socks and shoes, though?” Gabriel asked. It startled a laugh out of Sam, and he shook his head.

“Let’s get back, before your dad notices us missing,” Sam said after a moment, grabbing up their supplies. They’d leave the reburial for cemetery staff.

**\---**

They showered and slept when they got back, and in the morning, Gabriel was all but bouncing off the walls.

“Son, did you get into those Fruity Pebbles again?” Joshua spoke as he stepped into the kitchen.

“No, Dad, just slept real well,” Gabriel chirped, his energy practically humming through the kitchen. Sam shook his head, eating another bite of the Frosted Wheat he’d found. Gabriel was eating Honey Smacks as he bounced in his seat.

When they headed out for school, Sam discovered just why Gabe was so full of energy.

“Dude, I want to hunt!” he proclaimed.

Sam froze. “No!” he let out, staring at Gabriel. Gabriel halted a few steps in front of him, watching Sam.

“I don’t get what your problem with it is, man. We put Andrea’s spirit, or ghost or whatever, to rest last night! She’ll have peace now. Think about how many ghosts that can be done for! And you said there’s other stuff out there, right? We can help protect people from it…I can help! I want to help,” Gabriel said.

“Gabe…no, listen, alright? Sometimes my dad comes back, and it takes months for him to heal from his wounds. Dean, sometimes…sometimes I’m scared he’s not going to be him anymore, that the hunts are going to change him. You don’t want this, Gabe. Yeah, knowing what’s in the dark is smart, so you can protect yourself, but…no one should have to live in it. I mean, come on…do you really want to do all that research, dig up graves, or…any of that stuff? Because you have to, Gabe. You have to do all of that,” Sam said.

His desperation to keep his friend from that life had to have come through, because the stubborn set of Gabriel’s mouth softened and he sighed. “Fine, so…teach me, because I do want to at least be prepared. And!” Gabriel started, pointing at Sam. “If I come across something, I’m going to hunt it. I won’t actually look, but…ya know,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah…just remember, Gabe. We’re ten years old. Some of the things out there are hundreds of years old,” Sam told him.

“Dude…you sound like an old fart now,” Gabriel said, starting to walk for school again.

Sam didn’t respond. He didn’t say it was because he’d seen the injuries that could come from hunting. That it was because he’d known people that were killed by monsters and ghosts. He didn’t want his friend getting hurt. They were just kids, and much as Sam liked to think he could handle more than what anyone thought, he also knew that it wasn’t true, that he could be hurt…and Gabriel could be hurt, too.

**\---**

After school, Gabe went back to the hotel with Sam. Dean was less than pleased, and made sure to keep one eye on Sam’s friend at all times.

It didn’t save him. Gabriel went home before Dean fixed dinner (a simple meal of bologna sandwiches), and half an hour later, Dean was cussing from the toilet seat about how positive he was that Gabriel had snuck a laxative into his soda.

Sam had found it funny…until Dean had refused to turn on the bathroom fan. “Oh, no, Sammy. He’s your friend, so you’re going to suffer with me!” he’d barked out.

Sam was too nauseous to do his homework that night.


	7. Chapter 7

Two weeks passed. School was just starting to become more interesting, reaching a point that Sam was already up to, and Gabriel’s antics had only become more entertaining. And, they too, were interesting.

Sam had first thought that Gabriel went about pranking people at random, but that wasn’t the case. He pranked people that took advantage of or bullied others, or people that were just watching for it too much.

Sam had only been on the end of one prank so far, and when he’d stolen every last sucker from Gabriel as retribution, he was suddenly being pleaded with and bargained to for the safe return of the sugary candies. It’d been entertaining, and Sam had given in easily. He hadn’t suffered a single prank since.

School let out and they parted at Gabriel’s turn for his home, with calls to see each other the next day.

That night, Sam was staring out the window of the Impala as snow started to fall, wishing he’d been able to say goodbye.

**\---**

**Chicago, 1996**

They were back in the same crappy hotel, only a few rooms from the one they’d stayed in last time. Dad had picked him up from Bobby’s, and Dean from the boy’s home that had been his punishment. Sam, though…he was pretty sure that Dean had been getting attached to the place. There was just something in his brother’s eyes when they left that said as much.

“Alright, middle school is in the opposite direction of the high school. Looks like you’re hoofing it on your own again,” Dean said, looking at the paperwork they had for their schools.

“How much money do we have this time?” Sam queried, moving over to pick up his schedule.

“Enough,” Dean answered vaguely with a half-shrug. “Look, Dad will make sure we have enough. And I’ll get a part time job, since we’ll be here for a few months,” he said, flashing Sam a smile.

Sam couldn’t help but smile back. It’d be nice to be somewhere for a while. “Hey, can I sign up for a sport?” he asked excitedly, bouncing back to sit on his bed.

“What? Why?” Dean spoke with a small frown.

“Well, if you’ll have a job, I’ll be bored here by myself. And…I haven’t gotten to before,” Sam responded with a shrug.

Dean was quiet for a moment before shrugging. “Sure, I guess. Dad shouldn’t be back until after the school year, so why not?”

“Awesome,” Sam said with a grin, studying the paper in his hands.

**\---**

Sam shuffled toward the school, yawning despite the fact that breakfast should’ve woken him up. He wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep until the chill of the morning had warmed a bit.

He hadn’t even really thought all that much about the last time he’d been in Chicago. It’d been just about three full years. Anyone he knew from back then probably wouldn’t recognize him, if they even still lived here.

So, of course, when he heard footsteps suddenly running up behind him, adrenaline kicked him awake and he turned putting a solid punch to his would-be attacker, right in the jaw. Sandy blonde hair was the first thing he really saw as the stranger stumbled back, cupping their face. “Son of a—I should’ve known better!” a voice, muffled and pained, spoke.

“Who are you? What do you want?!” Sam said, backing up a step. This person looked to be near his age, judging by his height, but that didn’t mean too much.

“Nice to see you again, too, Sammy,” the voice spoke. Hands lowered and amber eyes peeked at Sam.

“…Gabriel. Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I—“

“No, no…that’s what I get for trying to tackle you,” Gabe said with a laugh. “But, you owe me ice cream or something for that,” he stated with a broad grin.

Sam relaxed and laughed, giving a nod. “Sure, I’ll get money off Dean later and treat you sometime,” he promised.

“Awesome! So, how long you around for?” the other boy asked as they started walking again.

“Until the end of the school year! Dean said I can sign up for a sport!” Sam gushed excitedly.

“Ew. Sam, just…ew. Why would you deliberately do that to yourself?” Gabriel asked him.

“Whatever, I’ve never gotten to, okay? I’ll be here long enough for a season of something, I’m sure. I can’t wait.”

“Well, they were putting up soccer tryout sheets at the beginning of the week. I guess I could watch you slip on wet grass for a few months,” Gabe teased.

Sam rolled his eyes, looking up as the middle school came into view. “…Hey, what classes do you have?” he asked, and the two compared schedules. It turned out they only had the last one together, but that they still had several of the same subjects and would be able to study together.

After Gabriel showed Sam the sign-up sheet for soccer tryouts, the boys separated and headed for their own homerooms.

They found later that they both had second lunch, and Sam sat with Gabriel and his friends. There weren’t but a handful of them, who could deal with the pranks that Gabriel apparently still pulled. None of it had really surprised Sam, until Gabriel had introduced him.

“Hey guys. This here’s Sam. He’s my bestie from a few years ago. His dad travels selling…what was it, insurance? But he’s here till the end of the year,” he’d spoken, Sam giving a mute nod to the question.

He listened and said hi as the others were introduced, but he was quiet, more or less in shock at being Gabriel’s best friend when he’d only known him for a few weeks, three years before. It was then that Sam decided that, when he left this time, it wouldn’t be without a goodbye, or without a way to stay in touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I'm so sorry for the recent irregularity/length between chapters. I'll try to get to a more regular schedule. Between being sick and starting a job, I've been finding it difficult to get my head together. Also, sorry this chapter is a wee bit short.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I FINALLY UPDATED. THE WORLD MUST BE ENDING.

Their last period was a Home Economics class, and the teacher was rather lax about the seating chart. In other words, you could sit wherever you wanted, so Sam snagged a seat at Gabriel’s work station.

“Mr. Baum’s pretty cool. Let’s us eat in class,” Gabe said, unwrapping a tootsie roll pop. Sam laughed and shook his head.

“Dude, you’re going to turn into sugar one of these days,” he said.

“And won’t that be a great way to go?” Gabriel said, grinning broadly. “Hey, come over tonight! Dad would love to see ya!”

“Uh…I can for a few minutes, I think. Dean’s going to be looking for a job, so I don’t have to worry about going straight back to the hotel,” Sam said after a few seconds of thought.

**\---**

The Home Ec class was working on cookies this week, and Sam had never seen Gabriel fit more into an element. Granted, he hadn’t had much time around him, and it’d been years since then, but watching Gabriel measure ingredients and crack eggs, and scoop cookie dough…it was like a ballet, or the way cogs on a watch meshed.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?” Gabriel asked, after sticking the cookies in the oven and looking up to see Sam staring.

Sam could feel his face heat. “No, I…you…dude, I couldn’t even figure out what to grab, you just…you made the cookies,” he spoke with a shrug at his own lack of eloquency. Gabe stared at Sam…and then he turned away suddenly, starting to clean up, shrugging. But there was an obvious blush on his face. Only obvious because Sam could see that his ears were red, since he was mostly turned away.

Not wanting his friend to feel so awkward, Sam shuffled slightly. “It…you did a really awesome job,” he said, hoping to relax the other teen somewhat. “Here…let me help out, since you did all the heavy lifting,” Sam offered.

Gabriel was still red, but he nodded and moved to the side, eventually letting Sam finish up when it was time to pull the cookies out of the oven. He let them cool for a moment, then transferred with a spatula to a cooling rack.

After that, they both relaxed and tidied up, waiting for the cookies to cool enough for the teacher to come by and taste test.

As Mr. Baum walked around the class, tasting each group’s sample, Sam watched for a moment. “You know…oatmeal raisin is my favorite. Think he’ll let us take some home?” he asked, looking at Gabriel.

Gabe grinned and nodded. “Oh, yeah. We always get to take our leftovers,” he said happily.

Then Mr. Baum was at their station. “Mr. Winchester, welcome to our school. Gabriel here tends to go off into his own world when doing his classwork, but I hope you were able to pitch in,” he spoke, lifting a cookie.

“…Not really, sir, but I’ll make sure to work my way in next time,” Sam responded honestly.

Mr. Baum nodded with a faint smile as he chewed on the cookie. “I wish you luck. The inability to do so happens to be why Gabriel is partner-less at his station. I’ll let it slide for you today, and you both get an A. Good job, Gabriel,” the teacher spoke, patting Gabriel on the shoulder before moving on.

Sam reached for a cookie and bit into it before Gabriel could say anything. “Damn, Gabe!” he spoke quietly. He didn’t want to get caught cussing. “These are freaking awesome, man!” he said, beaming up at his friend.

Gabriel, for a moment, looked like a deer frozen in headlights, and then he was grinning broadly. “Well, since I’m turning into sugar, it must be because of my natural sweetness!” he said proudly.

Sam laughed and shook his head, pulling out the paper lunch bags they were allowed from the classroom stock, so that they could bag up their fill of cookies. Surprisingly, 

Sam found he had the majority of them. He wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and question Gabe about it, though.

Minutes later, the bell rang for the end of the school day, and they headed out, walking toward Gabe’s home. Sam talked with him, but he was picturing the place already. And it looked just about exactly the same. The only difference was that the bushes were a bit more full, and one of the front windows, by the door, had been replaced with stained glass.

“Whoa…it looks like it belongs in a church,” Sam murmured as they neared the door.

“Huh? Oh, yeah…Dad put that in a couple years ago, after uh…well, I got a bit enthusiastic tilling the flower beds for him, and a rock shattered the old window,” he said. 

“What are the figures? Are those…angels, right?”

“Pretty sure the wings are a dead giveaway,” Gabriel said with a chuckle, unlocking the door. “But to be specific, archangels. Seven of ‘em. Apparently the big man likes to do things in sevens and all. Or, well…I guess there were originally eight, but uh…ya know, one fell and all that jazz,” he said with a shrug.

“Hey…do you think you’re named after an archangel? I mean…it was Gabriel that told Mary she was pregnant, right?” Sam said, once they were inside. He was still looking at the stained glass, even as he dropped his backpack and shed his coat.

“Not a clue. Kinda doubt it, though. I mean, who names their kid after an archangel and then drops them into the system? …Can you imagine, though? If it were me, telling Mary she was pregnant?” Gabe started with a grin. “It’d be hilarious, and she wouldn’t believe me, ya know,” he said, laughing.

Sam couldn’t help a laugh as well.

“Gabriel?” Joshua’s voice came, as the sound of the back screen door closing sounded.

“DAD! Guess who’s here!” Gabe said, bounding to the hallway.

“My, son, I haven’t seen you so excited over a visitor in a good while,” Joshua spoke, showing up at the end of the hallway. He didn’t look changed in the slightest…still the warm, aged man that Sam had met the last time he was in Chicago. He looked up at Sam and then smiled warmly. “Sam Winchester! Never thought I’d see you again! You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you?” he invited.

Sam smiled, flushing just a bit under the attention. “Ah, I’m not sure if my brother would be okay with that…” he started, but Joshua just waved his hand.

“None of that. You two put your coats on and go fetch that brother of yours. We’ll all have a nice hot meal. We’re going to have a cold snap tonight,” Joshua told them. Gabriel hadn’t taken his coat off yet, and he was bounding over to Sam, tugging at his arm.

“You’re so slow, Sammy! Get your coat on! Hurry, hurry, hurry!” Gabe fussed. This was the first time that Sam had seen him act like he was actually having a sugar rush, so Sam just chuckled and got his coat on, heading out with his best friend to drag his brother back for dinner.


	9. You Took A Polaroid Of Us

“Sammy, where have you—“ Dean started as Sam came into the hotel room. Gabriel was on his heels, though, and the sight of another person had Dean drawing up short.

“Dean, you remember Gabe, right? His dad invited us over for dinner,” Sam spoke. Gabriel stepped up next to Sam and shot Dean a mad grin.

“…Yeah, I remember you. You’re the little dipshit that put itching powder all over everything,” Dean said, relaxing minutely. That was probably only because he knew that Gabe wasn’t a monster…but that didn’t mean he liked the prankster kid.

“Aww, I’m so flattered you remember me! And who can forget a Ken doll like you, Dean-o? Now get your coat on, my dad’s waiting, and I’m hungry,” Gabe shot back, grinning all the more broadly.

Dean rolled his eyes, glancing at Sam. Sam just gave a small smile. He hadn’t tested Joshua, but he trusted the older man, and the look he gave Dean said as much.

“Alright, alright,” Dean muttered, reaching for his jacket. “Better than the bologna sandwiches we were gonna have, I bet,” he mumbled.

“Mm, Joshua said something about hot food, and a cold front coming in later tonight,” Sam supplied as they turned to the door.

The walk back was filled with jokes that Gabriel had started telling. Sam had joined in, and when they were almost there, Dean suddenly cut in with one of his own.

“What do you call the space between Pamela Anderson’s breasts?” he spoke.

Sam shot him a bitch face, because really? A dirty joke? He didn’t mind it all that much, but he hadn’t even hit puberty yet and he wasn’t sure if Gabe would like dirty jokes or—

“Duh, Silicon Valley,” Gabriel said with a chuckle. Dean shot him a grin, a real one that said he completely approved of Gabriel’s sense of humor. Sam rolled his eyes, huffed a laugh, and shook his head.

“Here we are! Home sweet home!” Gabe announced as they stepped up to the walkway. Sam glanced at Dean, noticing that, like Sam’s first time here, Dean was looking over the plants that were flowering, despite the cold.

“Joshua’s thing is gardening. Wait till you see the backyard,” Sam told him. Dean looked back at Sam, then up at the door that opened right as Gabriel reached it.

“Good timing, boys. The roast is ready. Come on in,” Joshua spoke. “You must be Sam’s brother…Dean, right?” he greeted as Dean walked in the door.

“Yes sir. Thanks for inviting us over,” Dean responded.

Joshua shook his head. “None of that sir business. I’m Joshua, and you two are more than welcome in our home. Set your coat on a peg and come break bread with us,” he said.

Gabriel and Sam had moved ahead of them; Sam to wash his hands, Gabriel to see if there was sweet potato mash on the table.

There was, of course, and Dean and Joshua walked in to a spoonful of it disappearing into Gabe’s mouth.

“Son, I have taught you better manners than that! Fetch a clean serving spoon and then wash up,” the older man fussed, as Sam came in behind them. Sam bit his lower lip to restrain a laugh, though Dean chuckled outright. When Joshua’s gaze turned on him, though it was hardly strict, Dean cleared his throat and looked away awkwardly, muttering about heading to wash his hands as well.

Five minutes later had the four of them sitting around a table. Sam almost expected there to be a prayer before the meal, despite the fact that the last time he’d eaten over there, years before, there hadn’t been.

When they started passing food around, talking jovially about different things, Sam couldn’t help his curiosity. “So, uhm…Joshua…I’m pretty sure you’re religious, given the, uh, stained glass window. Why don’t you say prayer before meals?” he asked.

Dean looked at Sam with a small frown, clearly thinking the question rude, but Gabriel wasn’t paying any attention as he took half of the sweet potato mash, and Joshua only gave a kind smile.

“Well, I figure God’s got enough voices coming at Him, and all the time, too. He knows who I am, knows that I’m grateful for all I have…and I trust in Him to help me in times of hardship, without me having to distract Him from the others that are calling on Him. That’s all,” Joshua explained, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Sam nodded. It did make some pretty good sense, he guessed. Sometimes, though, he wondered about God. After all, where was He when victims of monsters were crying out to him for help?

He decided to ignore those thoughts, instead commenting on the roast. Deer roast, as it turned out. Sam decided that, though he wouldn’t tell Dean, It was his new favorite meal. It was better than Dean’s burgers, packed with flavor, and so freaking tender!

When they finished eating, Joshua tended to the leftovers, while Dean and Sam sat in the living room with Gabriel. “Oh, hey! Let me show you guys my Polaroid camera!” Gabe said, suddenly bounding off.

While he was gone, Joshua came from the kitchen and passed a bag to Dean. “Leftovers for you boys to take to school tomorrow,” he said simply. Dean took the bag with a grateful word of thanks, before Gabriel came bounding back down the stairs.

“I bought it at a yard sale during the summer! It doesn’t work quite right, but it still gives pictures,” Gabriel said, flashing a picture of Dean and Sam as he walked closer.

Dean scowled at the unwanted picture, but Sam just stepped closer as Gabriel shook the picture out. “What do you mean, it doesn’t work right?” he asked, curious.

“Only give black and white pictures. First time, I thought maybe it was the film, that something got mixed up in the factory, but…color film, black and white pictures. See?” Gabe said, holding the candid of him and Dean out.

Sam took the picture and frowned. “Huh…that is weird. But hey, black and white pictures are supposed to be all fancy artistic or something. Maybe you could take pictures of stuff and sell ‘em,” he said. They discussed the idea for a bit, Dean even throwing in that he could make a collage of black and white Polaroids and sell them that way.

It was pretty dark out, though, and they wrapped up the conversation, thanking Joshua again for dinner, and Sam saying he’d see Gabriel in the morning. 

“He’s not so bad, I guess,” Dean spoke, as they walked home. Sam looked up at Dean and gave a bit of a smile.

“You’re only saying that because I kept him from sneaking cayenne into your sweet potatoes while you were talking to Joshua,” Sam told him with a smirk.

“…Sonuvabitch!” Dean swore, shaking his head. At least his little brother had saved him from that one.


	10. Then Discovered

When Sam met Gabriel on the way to school the next morning, the blonde haired boy was bouncing up and down.

“SAM!” he let out, as soon as he noticed his friend. The loudness of the exclamation actually made Sam jump on the otherwise quiet morning.

“Uh…hey, Gabe. What…what’s up?” Sam responded, eyeing Gabe over curiously. Was Gabriel about to pull some sort of massive prank? Oh shit, he was, and he was going to make Sam help, wasn’t he?

“Party! I’m having a party, this weekend!” Gabe proclaimed, practically vibrating as he more bounced than walked toward their school.

“Oh…cool. Dude, you’re scarily excited here. What’s the occasion? Or did you just eat too much sugar for breakfast?” Sam said with a small chuckle.

“No such thing, Sammich! Pfft, too much sugar,” he replied, shaking his head as if the very notion was ridiculous. “Joshua is going out of town Friday morning, and since he’s going to miss my birthday, he said I could throw a party, big as I wanted, just so long as no one messed with his plants!” Gabriel said, beaming happily.

“Birthday?” Sam spoke. His step had faltered for a second and he looked down, focusing on his feet as he frowned. He and Dean couldn’t spare money just yet. He couldn’t get anything for Gabriel…not in time, anyway. Bobby would’ve helped him, he was sure, but with Gabe’s birthday being so close…Sam would have to come up with something. “Uh…so…you want me to come?” he asked after a moment, finally looking up at Gabriel.

Gabriel stopped and stared at Sam, eyes sharp and a frown tugging at his lips. He was quiet for a long moment, frown deepening. “Sam, if you don’t show up, I am personally coming to your motel and dragging you, even if it’s kicking and screaming, to my party, and tying you down to the sofa.”

Sam couldn’t help a small laugh. “I just…didn’t want to assume, Gabe. Just got to get Dean to agree to me coming,” he said.

“Dean could come, too. If he isn’t gonna be all stuck-up about being around a bunch of people younger than him,” Gabriel said, a smirk sliding onto his face.

Sam snorted. Not likely. “So…when exactly is the party?” he asked, tilting his head as they resumed walking.

“Saturday, the 17th. You should stay over Friday night, so we can party all day,” Gabe said with a huge grin.

“More like, so you can convince me to help you set up traps Saturday morning before everyone shows up,” Sam retorted. Gabriel grinned broadly.

“You know me so well, Sammy!” he chirped back.

**\---**

The day passed by fairly quickly, and was relatively normal. Sure, Sam was in a new school, again, but there wasn’t anything special about the day. Well, other than Gabriel’s excitement that morning, and again at lunch when he invited his other friends from their table to come over on Saturday afternoon.

In their Home Ec class, they baked a cake. The cakes were out just in time for the end of class, so they were left for Mr. Baum to put away, and the next day, they’d get their grade on them.

Gabriel invited Sam over, but Sam declined. His reasoning was that he needed to be on his very best behavior for the rest of the week, in his brother’s eyes, for said brother to allow him to go to Gabriel’s party.

They parted ways at Gabe’s turn, and Sam went back to the hotel. Dean was there, on the phone, and there were newspapers on his bed. Sam walked over and frowned at the articles. Deaths…a case. So Dean was probably calling up their dad, or Bobby.

“Alright, Bobby. Yeah, we will. Alright, bye,” Dean said, hanging up.

“What is it?” Sam asked, sitting down at the small table to start on his homework.

“Looks like a ghoul. Started with dead, moved on to living,” Dean answered, clearing the papers from his bed. “Sammy, you need to keep your silver knife on you, hear me?” he said.

“I will, Dean,” Sam promised. Right now was not a good time to ask about the party. He’d wait, at least a day, before he did.

**\---**

The next afternoon turned out to be the perfect time to ask Dean about going to Gabe’s party, because Dean, when he showed up a bit later than usual, was happy. He’d found a job, and the best part? It was at a butcher shop, where he could bring home cuts of meat about to go out.

Sam was excited, too, both for himself and Dean. It’d be three weeks before Dean would get a check, but they splurged anyway, going out to a diner.

After the waitress took their order, Sam looked at Dean. “So…Gabe’s birthday is Saturday, and—“

“Sammy, I know we’re spending money right now, but we really don’t have that much to spare on a gift,” Dean cut him off.

“Actually…I’m working on that myself, but…he wanted me to go over Friday night, and stay through Saturday. He’s having a party. He said you could come for the party, too,” Sam offered.

Dean frowned. “I’ll be working. No weekends off, pretty much. …But yeah, you can go. Just…again, Sam, keep your knife on you, alright? I’ll get the phone number for the shop for you, so you can call me if something happens,” he said.

Sam smiled happily and nodded, looking up as the waitress returned with their food.

**\---**

Sam still had no clue what to get for Gabriel’s birthday, but an idea was forming. It wasn’t that great, but maybe it would be enough. He hoped, anyway. Wednesday morning, on the way to school, he told Gabe he had the go-ahead.

“Oh, hey…come here for just a second,” Sam said. He pulled his knife from his backpack. Gabriel stood near and Sam watched him, frowning a bit. And then he moved quick, making a shallow cut on Gabriel’s arm.

“OW! What the shit, Sam?!” he snapped, pulling his arm up.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, but…I had to be sure before I told you anything,” Sam said, taking off his backpack and pulling out a bandage, starting to tend the wound he’d inflicted. 

“Dean found a case, called Bobby, a friend of our Dad’s…there’s a hunter heading this way. It’s a ghoul…those dead bodies that’ve been popping up,” he spoke, looking up after he finished.

Gabriel was watching him, eyes sharp again. Sam thought he was still pissed about the cut, but then Gabriel shoved his hands in his pockets. “Tell me about ‘em. I’ve had to go three years without your lessons,” he said, giving a small smirk.

"Yeah, okay...and for what it's worth, I'm glad you're not the ghoul, Gabe. Because they can turn into the people they eat," Sam said with a weak smile. Gabe paled a bit, understanding that if he'd had a worse reaction to the cut, if he was the ghoul, it'd mean the real him was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to update my twitter and start using it again, so you guys can follow me there and get an idea of what I'm doing/when I'm close to updating. If you'd like, you can follow me: [Cascalence](https://twitter.com/Cascalence)


	11. The Rest Of The World Was Black And White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this chapter seems a little...fast-paced? I have some things I want to write in the next chapter, and I'm pretty excited to get to them.  
> Also, if you're curious as to what I'm up to/want to get an idea about where I am with the next chapter, you can follow my twitter. The link is in the footnotes of the previous chapter, as well as on my profile.  
> Hope ya'll enjoy!

Sam had talked a little about ghouls on the way to school. There wasn’t much to ‘em, really. They tended to feast on corpses, but could go after the living, too. They had the ability to take on the form of a person they ate, and seemed to inherit some memories of that person, too. They were weak to silver, and the best way to kill them was silver to the heart, be it bullet or knife.

Gabe had listened, simply absorbing the information and giving nods to show he was listening and attentive.

When they reached the school, they parted ways. At lunch, their table was asking Gabe about the bandage on his arm. With a mischievous grin, Gabriel announced to them, “Oh, Sam decided to attack me with a knife this morning!” Sam had tensed, but everyone at the table rolled their eyes, seeming to think it was one of Gabriel’s jokes.

Gabriel nudged Sam in the side and gave him a grin. Sam huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes, but relaxing now that he saw no one took it seriously.

Their last class went smoothly. Mr. Baum had given them their grades for the cakes on Tuesday, and the cake that Gabriel had made (Sam had managed to get to crack the eggs for it, that was it) got a top grade. The rest of Tuesday had been spent with a lecture on pie crusts. Today, they were making the dough for the crust. Tomorrow, they’d be making the pie.

Sam managed to get himself worked into whatever process Gabe had, and was actually helpful for once. He was happy about it, too. He didn’t like the idea of letting his friend do all the work.

When their class was over, they left the school together.

“I’m going to be walking down your way…I’ve got to go to the library for a project,” Sam told Gabe as they walked.

“What, don’t have to get Dean’s permission first?” Gabriel teased.

Sam rolled his eyes with a faint chuckle. “He’s working tonight, actually. Oh, yeah, he said I could come over on Friday, and be there for the party. He can’t come, though. 

The butcher shop has him working weekends.”

“Butcher shop? Santino’s, on fifth? They’re awesome. Joshua likes to get our meat from there instead of the grocery store,” Gabriel said with a smile, before nudging Sam again. “Since you can be out without getting chewed out, why don’t you come over for dinner when you’re done at the library?” he said with a grin.

Sam thought about it for a minute. It’d probably be dark when he left Gabe’s, if he did. …But he did have a knife. He chewed on his lip for a moment, then nodded. “Alright,” he said with a small smile. Time with his friend, and Joshua’s awesome food, made any risk well worth it.

**\---**

It took Sam far less time at the library than he thought it would, so he wandered about for a while, glimpsing at books in the research section. Surprisingly, they had things about supernatural creatures there, though nothing that could be checked out, and most of it was incorrect, from what he glanced at.

Finally, Sam headed out to Gabe’s.

He was only halfway up the walkway when the door opened, Gabriel bouncing out. The other boy bounced into Sam’s space, grinning from ear to ear as he grabbed onto Sam’s arm. “Move it, Sammy! Dad made duck!” he exclaimed.

“Du—“ Sam let out, his questioning word cutting off as Gabe pulled him forward. Entering the house, he was met with the most amazing, tantalizing smell. Gabriel pulled him straight to the kitchen, not even giving Sam a chance to pull off his shoes, coat, or backpack.

“Sam, good to see you again,” Joshua greeted with a welcoming smile.

“Thanks for having me again, si...er, Joshua,” Sam replied. His eyes moved from the older man to the table, eyeing the spread curiously. Joshua chuckled.

“Seared duck breast with a blackberry sauce, pureed parsnips and fennel, and pan-fried corn. Now that Gabriel’s relinquished his hold on you,” Joshua began, casting a humored glance at his son, who’d moved to sit at the table, “please feel free to make yourself comfortable and wash up.”

“Go, Sam! I want to eat!” Gabriel proclaimed. He was given a reprimanding look from Joshua, but Sam just chuckled as he turned to get his backpack off. Gabriel was eager, which meant whatever doubts Sam had, this food was sure to be good.

When Sam came back, just two minutes later, Gabriel had piled up his plate and was bouncing in his seat, waiting on Sam. No sooner had Sam taken a seat, than Gabriel tucked into his food with relish. The first bite of each dish he savored, but after that, he was completely wolfing it down.

Sam served himself, biting into the food. And it was all amazing. He hadn’t expected the flavors that Joshua had cultivated in the dishes, but the man definitely knew how to cook.

They ate, and Sam made sure to let Joshua know his delighted opinion on the food. Before he could head out, the sun already set, Joshua halted him, handing over a container packed with food. “Make sure that brother of yours eats, too. And be safe on your walk back,” he told Sam with a warm smile.

“Thanks, Joshua,” Sam said with a big, grateful smile. This would mean Dean wouldn’t have to make himself any food when he got in. “See you tomorrow, Gabe!” Sam called out. The blonde boy stuck his head out of the downstairs bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth as he waved enthusiastically. Thanking Joshua once more, Sam turned and started his walk to the hotel.

A few shadows had him on edge, but nothing jumped out at him. When Dean came into the hotel room a few hours later, with a bag of meat to put in the freezer, Sam directed him to the leftovers. When Dean finished eating, he looked at Sam. “You officially have permission to eat over there when I’m at work,” he said seriously. Not just because Joshua would likely send leftovers for him, but also because the food was delicious, and probably nutritious or whatever. Dean was always looking out for Sam, and Sam knew it.

**\---**

Friday morning, Sam grabbed up the backpack he’d stuffed with necessities for an overnight stay and bid farewell to Dean.

Dean was all too happy for Sam to go spend the night at Gabe’s, especially after Gabe had had Sam take home their pie on Thursday. It’d been apple, and Dean had eaten half of it in one sitting.

The school day went normally, almost edging on boring for Sam, who was anticipating the weekend.

That night was pretty awesome, with pizza, movies, and the occasional educational information on monsters for Gabriel.

Saturday morning, Gabe woke Sam by blasting his alarm radio as loud as he could, grinning as Sam flailed and looked around for a threat. “GOOD MORNING, SAMMY!” he yelled, right after he’d turned off the radio. Sam stared, trying to glare, but his heart was just thrumming too fast in his chest for that to work. “Come on, we’ve got traps to rig!” Gabriel announced, ignoring the wide eyed half-glare Sam managed.

It took a few minutes after Gabriel bounced out of the room for Sam to remember; today was Gabriel’s birthday.


	12. But We Were In Screaming Color

As Sam helped rig the traps, which ranged from simple whoopee cushions to random pie launchers, he quickly caught Gabe’s enthusiasm.  He was already excited, honestly, after remembering it was his friend’s birthday…but now he was excited for others to arrive, to see their faces as they fell victim to the pranks.

It took a couple of hours to set everything up.  The easiest part was putting the pies together.  All there were to them were store bought pie crusts and Cool Whip.  …LOTS of Cool Whip.  The fridge had been filled with containers of the whipped topping, which had to mean that Joshua knew what was going to happen.  Silently, Sam vowed to stay after the party and help clean up the mess.  Whether or not Gabriel was supposed to do that anyway, Joshua deserved a clean house for so willingly indulging his son’s pranks.

The traps all set, Sam headed to take first shower and get dressed.

When he came out of the shower, he stared into the mirror for several long moments, willing himself not to yell.  No.  He wouldn’t.  He knew this game.  He knew how to get Gabriel to lay off, too.

Drying his now-pink hair, Sam got dressed and headed down the stairs.  “Your turn,” he said to Gabriel, not even bothering to look and see his reaction.  He heard it, nonetheless, Gabriel cackling as he retreated up the stairs.

When Sam heard the distant sound of the shower, he moved.

He grabbed a pillowcase from the linen closet and went through the kitchen.  Then Gabriel’s room.  Then the living room, followed by the linen closet.  He wound up needing a second pillowcase when he went through the coat closet, too.

“Sam?  What are…how did you find all my hiding spots?!  Give it back!” Gabriel let out, diving for one of the pillowcases full of sweets.  Sam had taken too long trying to gather it all, and hadn’t heard the shower stop.

He grabbed up both pillowcases and dodged Gabriel, weaving through the living room.  “No way!  You turned my hair pink, Gabriel!  PINK!” he yelled back.

“It’s my BIRTHDAY, Sam!  You can’t take away my only source of nourishment!” Gabe retorted, giving chase.

“Nourish—were you dropped on your head as a baby?!” Sam shot back, still moving and playing keep-away with Gabriel.

Unfortunately, Sam couldn’t dodge very well carrying the sweet-laden fabric bags, and when Gabriel dove over the sofa, Sam wound up tackled to the floor.

“Might’ve been.  Come on, Sam!  The hair can be a birthday gift to me,” Gabriel said, sitting on Sam’s stomach, looking at him pleadingly.

Sam blinked.  “Oh, yeah…well, I guess it’s one gift, then,” Sam spoke, remembering the other one he had tucked away.

“One?  …You got me something?” the blonde asked.

Handing over the bags of sweets, Sam nodded.  “Yeah.  Now get off me, you’re a cow,” he said with a grin.

Gabriel put his hands over his heart.  “I’m wounded!” he said, grinning even as he said it.  He stood, grabbing the pillowcases, and moving to tuck everything back where it went.

Sam fidgeted, trying to figure out if he should give Gabe the gift now, or later.

Before he could decide, the doorbell was ringing.  Instinct had Sam wanting to grab a gun or knife until he knew it was safe.  He almost stopped Gabe as the other boy went to the door and just opened it, inviting the first of the party guests in.

It suddenly struck Sam.  This was what normal people lived like.  They opened doors without grabbing weapons.  They smiled and greeted friends without cutting them, or dousing them with salt.  …Sam’s life was fucked up, and he suddenly understood it.  It hit him, in the stomach, sinking into it and feeling like a heavy rock was settling there.

Ignoring it, he put on a smile and greeted the people that came with Gabe.

**\---**

The party was great, despite the laughs he got because of his hair.

When the first pie went on Alicia’s face, Gabriel had cackled as he ran to his room, grabbing his Polaroid camera.  He’d taken a picture, then put Sam in charge of the rest of the pictures.

He’d gotten presents, mostly gag gifts since his friends knew he’d appreciate them.

And the best part?  When they’d gotten the cake out.  Sam had noticed the looks Gerry and Jack were giving each other.  He took a picture to capture the conniving looks, but kept silent.

No sooner had Gabe blown out the candles, than he found himself face first in the cake.

The room was silent for a moment, and when Gabe lifted his head, everyone started to laugh.  Gabe grinned, and Sam took another picture, laughing along.

“Guess the cake’s all mine, huh?” Gabriel had crowed, which brought a round of protests.  In the end, everyone got a piece.

**\---**

It’d been awesome, and when everyone left, Sam helped clean up.  Dean showed up just as he was finishing up and halted when he Gabe let him in, staring at Sam.

Sam watched the war on Dean’s face and shook his head with an amused smile.  “Just laugh and get it over with, Dean,” he said.

And Dean laughed.  Oh, did he laugh.  He laughed long enough for Sam to start ignoring him and get back to work, leaving his brother to gasp for breath.

By the time Sam had finished, Dean had managed to catch his breath, and was wishing Gabe a happy birthday.  Sam headed upstairs to get his things and pulled out the slip of paper, staring at it uncertainly.

He finally came back downstairs, where Gabe was shoving pizza and cake at a protesting Dean.  Despite the fact that his stomach was growling.  “Just take it, Dean.  If Gabriel wants something to eat, he’s got candy all over the place,” Sam said.

“Shhh, no spilling of my candy stashing places!” Gabriel said in a loud whisper.  Sam smiled and laughed, walking over to Gabe.

He didn’t know why he suddenly felt shy, but he did.  “…It’s hardly as good as letting you get away with the hair dye, but…here,” he said quietly, thrusting the scrap of paper to Gabriel.

Gabriel blinked and took the paper, both he and Dean staring at it curiously.

It took a few seconds, but Gabriel’s eyes lit up, and Dean started trying to peek over his shoulder.  His curiosity was satisfied, however, when Gabriel spoke.  “An e-mail address?” he spoke.

Sam felt his cheeks heating and tried not to be shy as he answered.  “Yeah…so we can keep in touch…you know, when I leave again,” he said with a shrug.  “Hotmail gives ‘em for free, so you can get one and e-mail me…we can keep in touch,” he spoke, his voice getting more quiet and shy as he continued.  He cut himself off before he could head into rambling territory.

He blinked and froze when Gabriel was suddenly hugging him tight.  “I love it, Sam.  Thanks,” he spoke quietly.  Sam’s free arm (the other hand holding his bag) came up and hugged Gabriel back, a small smile making its way to his lips.

“I’m glad,” Sam responded.  He smiled and bid Gabe a good night, when Gabe released him, leaving with Dean to head back to the hotel.

_“sammich1983@hotmail.com”_

**\---**

When Monday came, Sam met Gabriel at the usual corner, tilting his head when he didn’t see a smile on Gabriel’s face.

“Hey, Gabe!  What’s up?” he greeted, giving a big enough smile for them both.

Gabriel looked up at Sam, expression bordering on troubled, before he pulled his backpack off.  Setting it at his feet, he unzipped a front pocket, pulling out a stack of Polaroids, presumably from the party.

“Sam…I stopped buying the color cartridges.  They were more expensive, and it wasn’t going to give me color pictures anyway, so…” Gabriel started.  Sam frowned, looking at the pictures.  They were black and white.  He looked back up at Gabe.

Gabriel sighed and shook his head, before reaching into the bag and pulling out another, holding it to Sam.  It was a picture taken after one of the girls had taken off with the camera.  Sam, Gabe, Hugh, and Natalie were in the picture.

It was all black and white.

Except Gabe and Sam.  They were in bold, amazingly eye-catching color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE do not e-mail that e-mail address. I have no idea if it actually exists, but if it does, I'm sure whoever owns it will not appreciate receiving random e-mails.  
> Also, hotmail didn't really start up until the middle of '96, and this is the beginning of 96, so I'm fudging some dates. It's not like it's the first thing I've messed up (In the first chapters, I stated Sam was 10, but he would've still been 9, as it was the beginning of 93, and his birthday is in May).


	13. And I Remember Thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Explanation and other things at the end of the chapter!

“So...it’s paranormal or whatever, right?” Gabriel spoke after Sam continued staring at the picture in shock for an inordinate amount of time.

“What?  Uh…yeah,” Sam said, finally looking up at Gabe.  “…Cursed object, I think.  Which is bad.  We need to figure out what it means, that we’re in color,” he said.

“Well…how do we do that?”

“I…I don’t know.  Take more pictures, maybe?  See if it happens with anyone else?”

“That’s…Sam, what does a cursed object do?  I mean…is this gonna kill us?” Gabriel asked with a frown.

“Most cursed objects do kill…but not all.  Besides, there’s other pictures of you, and other pictures of me, and none of those are in color,” Sam said with a shrug.  “Maybe…maybe it’s just because we’re friends.  I mean, I know everyone else at the party is, too, but…I don’t know, I have no clue,” Sam said, a frustrated look appearing on his face.

They stood there for a moment, both of their gazes falling back to the picture.  Finally, Gabriel took all of the pictures back.  “Alright, Sammy.  We’ll go out taking pictures this afternoon.  For now, we ought to get to school,” he said with a strained smile.  Sam returned the look, giving a nod as they started to head on to the school.

**\---**

Sam couldn’t concentrate through his classes.  He got called out on his lack of attention by teachers a couple of times, but for the most part, no one seemed to notice how distracted he was.

Taking more pictures with Gabriel’s camera wasn’t exactly the best idea.  What if, in doing so, they condemned other people to some horrid fate?  No, the best idea was to try and track the camera back.  Instant cameras weren’t all that old…definitely less than a hundred years, Sam was sure.  And the model of Gabe’s camera was fairly new, and couldn’t be more than ten years old.

Really, it took a lifetime to make an object cursed, but there were some special cases.

Come lunch, Sam had a new plan formed and caught Gabe outside the cafeteria.  “Hey…taking more pictures isn’t exactly a good idea.  I was thinking we could talk to the people you bought it from,” he said.

“Uh…yeah, I think I remember the house where I bought it,” Gabriel said, a thoughtful look on his face as they walked in, heading for the line.  “Do you think we’ll find answers that way?” he asked, picking up a tray.

“I think so…or at the very least, get an idea of what might happen to us,” Sam said.

**\---**

The house Gabe bought the camera from wasn’t far past his own home.  Gabriel wasn’t sure what to do, but Sam had seen his Dad working a case a few times and walked right up to the door like he belonged there, knocking on it.

The door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman.

“Yes…can I help you boys?” she asked, looking from Sam to where Gabriel was lingering about a foot behind his friend.

“Yes, ma’am…we’re sorry to bother you, but you sold my friend a camera during a yard sale a few months ago, and we…well, we noticed it only takes black and white pictures.  We were hoping you could tell us why?  Was it dropped or something?” Sam asked.

The woman blinked, eyes going back to Sam.  “Oh…well, no…it wasn’t dropped.  ...I’m sorry, dear,” she spoke, gaze going to Gabriel.  “I must’ve been busy not to tell you.  It was the Polaroid camera, correct?  It belonged to my parents, and…it simply stopped producing color pictures after they passed,” she said.

Seeing the look in the woman’s eyes, the way she seemed to be reliving memories, Sam gave his best sympathetic look.  “Would you like to share their story with us?” he asked, his tone soft and welcoming.

The woman tilted her head curiously, before giving a soft smile and stepping aside, silently inviting the boys into her home.

**\---**

Mrs. Osbourne served them hot tea, into which Gabriel put copious amounts of the honey she’d brought out with it.  She told them about her parents having met in college in the 50s.  They’d been in love within an instant, and had been head over heels with each other until they’d passed in their sleep, about a year and a half ago.

“They bought that camera a few months before they died, and they were just…obsessed with it.  They took pictures of everything.  Well, actually…of themselves wherever they went.  They traveled a bit.  Actually,” she started, standing.  She walked around the sofa she was sitting on, crouching and reaching into a cabinet of the table behind said sofa.  She pulled out a wooden box and brought it over, opening it for the boys to see.  Pictures, all of them in color, of a happily smiling old couple.  On beaches, in a restaurant, on the Empire State building, and plenty of other places that Sam didn’t recognize.

“They were the best of friends, Mom once told me,” Mrs. Osbourne suddenly said as the boys looked over the pictures.  Sam looked up at her.  “She said that they didn’t keep secrets from each other, they told each other everything.  That Dad had even told her the very same day he found himself attracted to another woman.  She’d been upset, but he’d been so full of guilt, she forgave him.  He never cheated, and neither did she, and sure, they fought a couple of times, but…they were so happy.  It was hard, when I found them,” she said, sniffling but managing to hold back tears.  She looked up at the boys.  “But because of them, I knew what love was, and now I have it.  And hopefully, you boys’ll find that one day…even if you think girls are icky now,” she said with a chuckle.

“Hey, I’ve almost hit puberty!  And I just turned 13,” Gabriel pouted.  Sam blinked and looked at him, then started to laugh.  “Yeah, but with all the girls you’ve pulled pranks on, do you think any of them will date you?” he teased.  Gabe’s pout worsened and he stuck his tongue out at Sam.

“Anyway…you boys do me a favor and take good care of that camera, alright?  I mean…I’ll be honest, I wanted to keep it, but it was kinda painful to keep laying around.  I’d just like to know it’s in good hands out there,” she said.

Sam and Gabriel had both nodded.  Soon after, they left.  Sam had dinner at Gabe’s house, once again treated to Joshua’s wonderful cooking, then took leftovers home for Dean.

**\---**

“I’ve been thinking about what that picture could mean,” Gabriel brought up the next morning on the way to school.

“So have I.  I mean….it’s kind of weird, that it showed us in color, right?  But…Mrs. Osbourne…she said her parents were best friends, that they didn’t keep secrets from each other.  Maybe…maybe that’s why.  I mean, you’re the only friend I’ve ever had that knew about the hunting,” Sam said, looking at Gabe.

Gabriel looked back at him, and he didn’t have his usual smile on his face.  “Yeah…and you’re the only one of our friends that knows I don’t…don’t feel like other people,” he said with a small shrug.

Sam gave a small smile and leaned over, nudging Gabe.  “So it’s not something that’s going to hurt us.  It’s because we’re best friends,” he said.

The smile Gabriel gave Sam made it seem like the sun had peeked through the clouds of the overcast sky, it was so blinding with its intensity.  Sam felt his own responding smile was no less intense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I struggled with this chapter, to be honest, and that probably shows.  
> Not only that, I've been fighting with migraines off and on for the past couple of weeks.  
> I still have one today, but I felt the writing itch strike me today. So I got this out, and I'm going to work on the next shot for the series I'm doing after this is posted.
> 
> I sincerely apologize if this is...lacking? For lack of a better word.  
> But if I manage it correctly, there'll be more interesting things in the next couple of chapters!  
> WOO!  
> Here's hoping the migraines don't assail me so badly anymore.
> 
> Also, you'll notice that the rating has been changed to Mature. It might wind up Explicit later on. Because, as it turns out, there will be smut in the later chapters. Yum~


	14. Are We Out Of The Woods Yet?

Tuesday passed, and then Wednesday.  By Thursday, most of his classmates had stopped teasing Sam about his pink hair…and it was starting to fade already, too, where he was giving it an extra wash every morning.

The day progressed well, and after school, Sam went for the soccer tryouts.  The coach gave him the stink eye over his hair, but seeing Sam on the field had his expression changing to one of grudging approval.

Gabriel sat on the side lines, letting out cheers every time Sam took so much as two steps in any direction.  It was embarrassing, but Sam could only grin, knowing that was the point.  Besides, not that he blamed Dean for having to work, but at least Gabe was there.  It was nice, having someone there.

After the tryouts, he walked with Gabe, but had him go on home alone, not wanting to sit at Joshua’s table while he was sweaty and smelly.

Halfway to the hotel, Sam realized that there were footsteps behind him, and had been for a bit now.  He frowned and turned down the next alley.

The footsteps followed him in and he held his breath where he was hiding.  The footsteps stopped.

“Sam?” a familiar voice spoke.  Sam frowned, trying to place it as he slipped his hand into his pocket, wrapping around the folded silver knife.  Reassuring himself of its presence, he let go and took his hand back out of the pocket, standing up and slowly peeking out from behind the dumpster.

“…Mr. Baum?” he spoke, stepping out slowly, into full view of his teacher.

“Sorry if I spooked you, son.  I was leaving a store and saw you walking alone.  I wanted to be sure you were alright…what with whatever’s been going on around the city lately.  Granted, it seems to be affecting adults, but…you never know.  Come on.  I’ll walk you on home,” the man spoke.

Sam eyed him, trying to figure out how much of that he believed.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Baum, but…I think I’d like to walk home alone.  Don’t worry, though.  I’m being careful,” he assured.

The teacher shook his head, stepping forward.  “None of that, Mr. Winchester.  You’re one of my pupils and—“ he spoke, reaching forward toward Sam.

Sam just felt like everything was off about this.  He wasn’t sure why, but there were alarm bells going off in his head.  Somehow, despite being in that awkward almost-teen phase of his life, he managed to get the knife out of his pocket and open without fumbling around.  And as Mr. Baum’s hand neared his shoulder, this same thing setting off alarm bells had him lashing out with the knife.  He sliced open the man’s hand.

But this wasn’t a man.  He drew back with a yelp, palm hissing and giving off smoke.  Sam froze then, staring as Mr. Baum looked at him, fury in his eyes.

“I was going to take it easy on you…but now, I think I’ll make you suffer,” the teacher hissed out.

That got Sam’s brain into gear…and his feet.  He turned and ran through the alley.  The other end led into a park, and Sam wasn’t sure where he’d go, but he knew he just had to run, to keep running, until he was safe.

\---

It was dark…and this park was…apparently huge.  Sam had no idea where he was.  He’d run into the park, right into the trees, and...he knew the ghoul had been following him for a while, but now…now he was alone.  It was mostly quiet, save the sounds of some animals.

But it was cold, he was hungry, and he was tired.  Exhausted, really.  He’d done the soccer tryouts, then had been running for his life.  His muscles ached, and all he wanted was hot food, a hot shower, and a warm bed.

What he was stuck with was a small den to hide in, seemingly long abandoned by whatever animal dug it.

\---

Gabriel jerked awake out of his bed to pounding at the door downstairs.  He could already hear Joshua moving and calling out that he was coming, but the banging didn’t stop.  Gabe got up and to the top of the stairs just in time for Joshua to get the door open.

“Is he here?  Sam!  SAM!” Dean’s voice came, before he came into view after pushing past Joshua.

Gabriel’s blood ran cold.  When Sam hadn’t shown up for dinner, Gabe had assumed that Dean had been off from work and they’d eaten something at their hotel room.  “He didn’t…didn’t come over,” Gabriel stuttered out quietly.

The color drained from Dean’s face, and the teen turned, running out the front door.

Gabriel was down the stairs and running after him, even as Joshua called him to come back.  It wasn’t easy, with as out of shape as he was, but Gabriel caught up with Dean and caught his arm.  Dean yanked away as he turned.

“What?!” he snapped in Gabe’s face.

“He told me.  Sam told me.  Let me help look for him.  Please!” Gabriel pleaded.

Dean stared, tilting his head.  “…Told you w—“

“Hunting!  Monsters, ghosts, the whole shebang!  He tested me the other day,” Gabriel said, holding up his healing hand.  “Told me about the ghoul running around.  Let me help, Dean.  I can’t not-help,” Gabriel told him seriously.

Dean reached up, both hands running through his hair.  “Shit.  No, I…I’ve gotta call Dad.  You’ll want to steer clear,” he said, turning to go.

“He’s not dead!  He…there’s no way he’s dead, but if we wait for someone else, he might wind up that way!” Gabe yelled at him.

Dean halted short, then cussed under his breath.  “…You don’t have shoes on, man.  Look, go get some shoes on, then get over to the hotel.  I’m going to go gather some stuff,” he said.

“No going off without me, Dean-o.  Two sets of eyes’ll be better than one,” Gabriel said, turning and jogging back toward his home.

Sammy just had to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took longer than two weeks...but that's because my mother was in the hospital again, and...things and stuff and LIFE. Uhg, life. Can't live with it, can't.... Wait, can live with it, but yeah, can't live without it. Heh....


	15. Are We In The Clear Yet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working my way back to the story...sorry for the long, long hiatus. Next time I do a story, I'll write it in its entirety, then post it. Lesson learned.

So, Sammy’s little friend thought he knew about hunting? After Gabe showed up at the hotel room, demanding a gun or knife from Dean, Dean decided that he was going to teach Gabe about hunting. …In a similar manner that his father was teaching him.

  
He’d handed the kid a knife, and then they’d gone to inspect the route from Gabriel’s apartment to the hotel.

  
Picking up a trail amidst cement streets and brick buildings was hard, but Sam had left them clues.

  
“Good job, Sammy,” Dean muttered, crouching next to the dumpster. There’d been a few dots of blood, and it was leading off toward the park at the other end of the alley, but that could’ve been anyone…or even an animal. The permanent ink marker left on the ground, followed by Sam’s scrawl on the side of the dumpster, let him know Sam had been here.

  
D.W.  
Trouble.

  
“There’s blood,” Gabriel noticed. “Is…is it Sam’s?” he asked. Dean shot him a withering glare, but Gabriel didn’t cow down under it. Standing up to his full height, Dean sighed, looking toward the park.

  
“It could be, but given the clues, I’m guessing it’s the ghoul’s. For one thing? It’s too congealed. Far more than a human’s would be, with the way it’s dropped onto the ground. I’m guessing Sammy cut it and took off,” Dean answered. “Come on. Time for a little stroll through the park,” he said.

  
\---

  
Dean had started it off, calling for Sam as they walked. But then he let it just be Gabriel and separated from him. He knew better than to actually be calling for Sammy, but Gabriel didn’t. He thought he got hunting? Well, he was bait now. He was about to really get what hunting was like.

  
“Mr. Gardener?” a voice suddenly spoke. Gabriel moved his flashlight beam on to the face of a man who winced and shielded his eyes.

  
“Mr. Baum,” Gabriel spoke quietly, lowering his light. “What are you doing out here?”

  
“I saw Mr. Winchester run into the woods…someone was chasing him, and I was concerned,” the man replied…though Dean knew this wasn’t a man. He was carefully creeping around him, trying to get close.

  
“…And you didn’t call the police?” Gabriel’s voice spoke. It surprised Dean, the sudden coldness to it, and the sharpness that said Gabriel had caught on.

  
“Ah, I left my phone back at the school,” the teacher excused. “I’ve lost track of Sam, too. I’m having problems finding my way back out of the forest…I don’t suppose you’d guide me back out, would you?”

  
“Sure, Mr. Baum,” Gabriel spoke, his voice suddenly light again. He’d bought that lame ass excuse the teacher gave? Dean had to restrain a snort. The teacher walked closer to Gabriel, and Gabriel turned to walk.

  
Dean blinked. He was still too far away. The ghoul was reaching for Gabriel as they moved, and a grin was on its face. Dean started to bolt forward. “Gabriel!” he called in warning. Scaring the kid was one thing…he didn’t want him to die.

  
He halted short, because suddenly, the ghoul was on its knees, clutching the silver knife sticking from its chest. The one Dean had given Gabriel.

  
Dean expected Gabriel to be stunned, shocked, horrified…but as the ghoul died at his feet, he stared with an angry sort of indifference. And then he was yelling for Sammy again.

  
Color Dean impressed. “SAMMY!” he yelled out.

  
\---

  
Gabriel. He’d heard Gabriel. Sam had stumbled from his hiding spot, cold and numb, stumbling like a newborn fawn. He had to get to Gabe before he attracted the wrong sort of attention.

  
He was so out of it, he ran right in to someone. Looking up, he stumbled back a bit before the figure caught him. “Easy there, son. You remember me, Sam?” the man said.  
Sam blinked a few times, clearing his vision. “P-Pastor Jim?” he stuttered, shivering.

  
“That’s it, in one. Come on, before those two get themselves in trouble looking for you,” he said.

  
Dean’s voice came, loudly, and not far off. Sam walked with Pastor Jim, and soon they happened upon Gabriel, Dean, and the dead ghoul.

  
“Shit, Sam,” Dean cursed, moving and pulling off his jacket, covering his shivering little brother. “Hey Pastor Jim,” he greeted, before cutting the man.  
The Pastor didn’t give much of a reaction, other than a wince, and soon Gabriel was leading them all from the woods.

  
“Dean, you and Sam should come over. You guys can spend the night, get warm in a real home. Dad’ll fix us all some hot cocoa,” Gabriel offered.

  
Dean eyed Gabriel, but a sniffle from Sam had him agreeing. He spoke with Pastor Jim, getting him to agree to keep his, Sam’s, and Gabriel’s involvement with the ghoul on the down-low from their father and Bobby.

  
They then parted ways, Dean and Sam following Gabriel back to his home. Joshua was waiting when they walked in, and the older man already had cocoa ready for Sam and Gabriel, and coffee for Dean. They all sat in the living room, the boys glancing at each other awkwardly as Joshua just sat and said nothing, for a good long few minutes.

  
Finally, the older man spoke up. “Dean, after you finish your coffee, why don’t you go grab a change of clothes for you and your brother? And Sam, you can take a hot bath. You seem like you’ve been through the ringer there, son,” he said.

  
He didn’t ask questions of them. And given the way Gabriel relaxed, it was obvious that Joshua wasn’t going to ask.

  
“Yes sir,” Dean spoke, swallowing the last of his coffee before getting up and heading out.

  
Sam stared into his hot chocolate, which was now half-gone, then set the rest aside. “I think I’d like to go ahead with that bath, if you don’t mind, Joshua,” he said quietly.  
“Not at all, go ahead. Gabriel, why don’t you lend him some of your pajamas. You two are about the same size,” Joshua said. Gabriel nodded, though he didn’t relinquish his hot chocolate as he followed Sam up the stairs.

  
“Sam, you okay?” Gabe asked as they rounded the top of the stairs.

  
“Yeah. I was just out there a while. Might be a bit sick,” Sam said with a faint flash of a smile toward Gabriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for readability. Also, sorry about the blergh ending to the chapter. SPN was about to come on and I was all, "That's enough words, just post the thing," lol!


	16. In The Clear Yet, Good!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I feel like this chapter isn't my best work...but I'm trying to regain my muse here. I've got seven days in a row coming up at work, by the way, so it'll be about a week and a half to two weeks before I can squeeze out another chapter...hope you all enjoy!

A couple of days passed, with the boys staying with Mr. Gardener and Gabriel.  The older man had expressed concern, and Dean didn’t want to raise any flags, so he relented when the man had insisted they stay an extra day.

 

It was probably the only reason Sam didn’t wind up with a cold.  Or at least, that’s how he felt.  Something about the motel room seemed cold…but Joshua and Gabriel’s home was warm.  Warm food, warm bed, warm shower…just warm.  Sam felt like it’d helped, being there.

 

Home Ec was a little awkward.  And Gabriel was upset.  The first day following the ghoul incident, he’d stared at Mr. Baum’s empty seat.  When Sam asked if he was alright, Gabriel had shook his head.

 

“The real Mr. Baum was nice,” he said quietly.  He looked at Sam.  “He didn’t mind that I couldn’t really work with anyone…well, until you, but…he was nice about it.  Told me that sometimes, kitchens were only big enough for one cook,” he told Sam.  He sighed.  “This sucks, that he’s gone.”

 

“Yeah…I wish I could say it’s the first time I’ve dealt with this, but…Dad’s hunted one or two of my teachers before.  I’ve never had to stick around long afterward to deal with the aftermath…” Sam said quietly.

 

As time for the class to start rolled around, a substitute came in and announced that Mr. Baum had not come in today, and then started talking to them about cookies…which they’d already done.  Gabriel was quickly distracted, his attention going elsewhere.  Sam didn’t bother to try and reel him back in…he was bored, too.

 

The day passed, uneventful otherwise.  At least until the end of the day.  The soccer tryout results were posted, and Sam couldn’t help but be a little excited.  He’d made the team!

 

“Congrats Sammy!” Gabriel said with a hard smack to Sam’s back.  Sam didn’t mind it, knowing that Gabe was doing it to be obnoxious.

 

“Thanks!” he’d replied, heading off with him.  When Sam revealed the news to Dean that evening, he wasn’t thrilled, but he’d said that Sam could join, and he promised to try and make some of the games, when he wasn’t working.

 

\---

 

The months passed.  Sam, on the soccer team, and with lots of cheering from Gabriel and the occasional show from Dean as well, won a Divisional Championship with his team, and got a trophy to take home.  He was riding a high that day, and Dean, Gabriel, and himself were celebrating at Gabriel’s, when a knock sounded at the door.

 

Joshua answered, as the boys chattered about the winning shot, but Dean froze suddenly.  “Oh, crap,” he muttered.

 

“What?” Sam asked, before turning as Joshua entered the room…with their father right behind him.  He didn’t look angry, but Sam could tell he was.  Dean and Sam were supposed to be at the hotel.

 

“Hey boys.  Got your stuff from the motel already.  Come on, we gotta hit the road,” John spoke.  “Need to make Denver by dawn.”

 

Dean was up and moving over right away.  Sam was slower.  He gave a faint smile to Gabriel.  “See ya around,” he spoke.

 

“Yeah.  Email, right?  Oh, hey, don’t forget your trophy,” Gabriel said, holding it out to Sam.  Sam took it and thanked him, then followed his father and brother out the door.

 

Their father tore in to Dean about safety, and wouldn’t hear any excuses.  Sam sat quietly in the backseat, trying to defend his brother every so often, but finding it pointless after being shut down so many times.  Their father wanted them safe, he got that, but…he didn’t seem to want anything else.  Especially not to hear them.

 

\---

 

_**From:  trickygabe@hotmail.com** _

_**To:  sammich1983@hotmail.com** _

_Hey ya Sammy!  I got me an email address!  So…how’d the ride with your Dad go?  He seemed…well, not happy.  That smile he had didn’t reach his eyes.  Joshua said the same, and he was a little concerned, too.  Everything’s cool, right?_

_**From:  sammich1983@hotmail.com** _

_**To:  trickygabe@hotmail.com** _

_Your email address suits you, haha!  And yeah, everything’s fine.  Dean just got chewed out because we apparently weren’t being safe by not being where he expected us to be._

_Get this.  Dad’s off hunting a Wendigo.  And he chews at us for not being safe._

_**From:  trickygabe@hotmail.com** _

_**To: sammich1983@hotmail.com** _

_A Wendigo?  I searched online, but I don’t know what’s true and what’s not.  I’ve got pages telling me they’re flesh-eating Native American gods.  Tell me a bit about ‘em._

_**From: sammich1983@hotmail.com** _

_**To:  trickygabe@hotmail.com** _

_Wendigo’s have been around since the Native Americans, and probably before them, too.  It’s the Native Americans that gave them the name, but they’re far from gods.  They’re people.  Or they were, once.  It’s like this; a group goes on an expedition, gets stuck without food…and one of them winds up eating the others.  Or more than one of them does it.  Long story short, they become monsters, complete with hibernation cycles and feeding patterns.  They can mimic voices, and they’re wickedly fast.  Oh, and highly susceptible to fire._

_**From:  trickygabe@hotmail.com** _

_**To:  sammich1983@hotmail.com** _

_Whoa, whoa, back up!  Humans can become monsters??  I thought you had to be born a monster!  That’s totally not cool.  How do I avoid becoming a monster, then?  Just avoid eating human flesh?  Because if that’s it, I’m safe.  I’ll stick to sugar._

_**From:  sammich1983@hotmail.com** _

_**To: trickygabe@hotmail.com** _

_Avoiding eating human flesh is a big one.  There’s other ways, though.  Like drinking vampire blood or being bit by a werewolf.  Or making a contract with a demon for power, like some witches do.  That makes you not-exactly human anymore._

_**From:  trickygabe@hotmail.com** _

_**To: sammich1983@hotmail.com** _

_Man, there’s a lot I’ve got to learn yet!  Alright, Sammy!  Start giving me the 4-1-1 on vampires!_

 

 


	17. Looking At It Now

Time passed.  Sam and Gabriel kept in contact via email…until they didn’t.  Gabriel unexpectedly went radio silent, and Sam finally was able to dig up why.  Joshua had passed, a few weeks short of Gabriel’s 18th birthday.  Which meant he would’ve been put back in the foster system.

 

But even after Gabriel would’ve been 18, he didn’t start emailing again.  Sam kept sending emails, keeping him up to date on what was happening in his own life, and expressing concern over Gabriel, but he never heard anything.

 

Sam went on to Stanford, free of his father’s gaze.  He experimented, discovered what he liked, what he didn’t.  He met Jess, was doing great in his classes.

 

Then Dean showed up.  Jess died.  Sam stopped emailing Gabriel, because what did it matter?  He hadn’t found anything, but Gabriel could’ve been dead for all he knew.  Because wouldn’t that just make sense?

 

He was in a funk, and he knew it, but he let himself wallow…let Dean drag him around the country, until finally, his head started to get into the game a little bit.

 

**Crawford Hall, 2006**

 

There was something familiar about the janitor, when they went to check out the professor’s office.  Something familiar about his face, about his personality.  It wasn’t until, “Got more ass than a toilet seat,” that it connected.

 

“…Gabriel?” Sam blurted.  The man stopped and stared before his eyes lit up.  “Sammich?  Holy hell, I haven’t heard from you in—”

 

Sam cut him off with a bitch face.  “If you’d bothered to check your email, you’d see I only stopped emailing about a year ago,” he said.

 

Gabriel looked ashamed for a moment before shrugging.  “Sorry, Sammy…life kept me preoccupied.  But that makes this Dean!  Hey broody!  You’ve cheered up a bit!” he said.

 

“Gabriel,” Dean said with a greeting nod.  “How’d you wind up here?”

 

“Oh, you know, Dad kicked the bucket, I was thrown back in foster care, moved all over the place in all of three weeks, aged out…found work where I could,” Gabriel said with a shrug.

 

Dean frowned.  “Sorry to hear about your Dad, man.  He was an awesome guy,” he said.  Sam nodded in agreement.  He’d been sad to hear that he’d passed.

 

Gabriel just shrugged it off, shaking his head.  “Past is past.  So…you fellas working a case, then?” he asked.

 

“Yeah.  Yeah.  So, you said a girl came up here with the professor…see her leave at all?” Sam asked.

 

Gabriel tilted his head.  “Y’know, now that I come to think of it, no.  …So, ghost, vengeful spirit?” he asked.

 

Sam lifted the EMF detector.  “It sounds like, but uh…no EMF readings,” he said.

 

“Yeah, so…we’ll get out of your hair.  Nice seeing you again, Gabe,” Dean said, giving Gabriel a pat on the shoulder as the brothers turned to head out.

 

“Don’t be strangers!” Gabriel called after them.

 

\---

 

The pledge master and his alien, and the research scientist and the sewer ‘gator happened…and the brothers were at each other throats.  So they called on Bobby and recounted everything.

 

“And if you two bothered to pull your heads outta your asses, it all would have been pretty clear,” Bobby said, after setting the record straight between them.

 

“What?” Dean replied.

 

“What you’re dealing with,” Bobby shot back.

 

Sam and Dean looked at one another.

 

“Uh…” Sam blurted intelligibly.

 

“I got nothing,” Dean said.

 

“Me, neither,” Sam piped up.

 

“You got a trickster on your hands,” Bobby informed them.

 

They went over the information, and Dean pointed out…that Gabriel had been at the center of it.

 

Sam didn’t want to believe it.  How could that be true?  They’d been best friends since they were kids.  But too much of it fit.

 

Sam held out hope, going through the fake argument outside the hall with Dean after they’d gone back and given the place another sweep, as they told Gabriel.  But it came down to the wire, and Gabriel…Gabe offered up the fake women to Dean.

 

Betrayal swept through Sam.  He didn’t understand why Gabriel had played at being a friend for so long.  And then he was being chased by a guy with a chainsaw while Dean was getting the crap beat out of him.

 

Finally, though, he tossed a stake to Dean and Dean plunged it into the trickster’s chest.  Sam could only stare as he fell back, lifeless.

 

The women vanished, and so did the chainsaw man.

 

Bobby and the boys hightailed it away from the body.  Dean and Sam said their apologies at the Impala.  And then they were on the road again.

 

Sam found himself having nightmares again.  Only this time, of something that had already happened.  Of Gabriel slumping back, dead.  Waking up so early in the mornings from the nightmares, he started taking up jogging again as a way to rid himself of the leftover emotions the nightmares brought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is a bit shorter than usual...sorry! Anyway, I advanced the timeline a little bit, but the next chapter is going to lay out some details about what is going on, on Gabe's side of things. ...Once I iron out some details, anyway. It may be 2-3 weeks before I update again...sorry, but hope you all enjoyed this chapter!!


	18. Last December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is earlier than I predicted. I sat down on one of my days off, and it just...flowed (and I think it's my longest chapter to date, not sure). It's kinda like a time stamp, but very important one, yes! If I left anything open, or if you have questions, lemme know, plurz! Enjoy!

The room was still.  Silent.  And he knew.

 

He knew, but it didn’t stop him from croaking out a shattered, “Dad?” in the room lit by the bright, cheery world outside.

 

Gabriel stood in the silent room, staring at his father’s body for several long moments, anguish wrapping around his heart.  It was all he could feel.  He wanted to scream, to rent the very air around him with the despair of the person who’d given him so much.  But he didn’t.

 

Instead, he finally turned and trudged down the stairs.  He picked up the phone and, not knowing the local non-emergency number, dialed 9-1-1.

 

He heard the standard greeting, and idly thought that it was just like the one you heard on TV.  “It’s…it’s not an emergency.  My…my Dad, he…he died sometime last night,” Gabriel spoke.  Died while Gabriel laid there, sleeping perfectly contentedly.  Self-hatred filled him.  Rushed through his heart, his veins, drowning his hearing so that he couldn’t hear the dispatcher’s response.  His knees gave out and he dropped the phone as he landed on them, struggling to breathe evenly. 

 

He didn’t know how long he sat like that.  It surely was only minutes, but for a brief moment, he couldn’t remember not being there on the floor, being consumed with grief.  But there was knocking on the door, and he finally managed to drag himself up and move.  He opened the door, leading the coroner and paramedics up to his father’s bedroom.  He couldn’t go in again, though.  Couldn’t watch when they came out with the black body bag on the stretcher.  He heard someone asking him questions through all this, but he couldn’t answer.  He’d gone numb on the outside.

 

The end result was that he woke, a few hours later, in the hospital.  His grief had gripped him so tight that he’d wound up in shock.  And now, there was a woman sitting in the chair in the corner, going through papers.

 

“Seriously?” Gabriel snarled as he sat up.  He knew the look of the woman.  Social worker.  “He’s not even in the grave yet, and you people are here to drag me away?” he snapped.  The woman looked up, and she had a sympathetic look on her face…but it didn’t reach her eyes.  Her eyes were bored.

 

Gabriel blocked out whatever she said.  Something about being sorry, of course.  But that he was now without guardian and a ward of the state once again.

 

\---

 

He aged out, and fled to the streets, ready to be free of the oppressive thumb of the states.  He worked odd jobs to get money to eat, slept with the homeless community, learning how to survive with them…until a lawyer tracked him down.  His father had left him the townhouse.  It still took a few months before he went to see it.  He hadn’t known they’d owned it.  Or well…now Gabriel himself owned it.  He stared up at it from the sidewalk.  He didn’t know if he could go in, but the chilly December air made up his mind for him.  He started forward, but a voice stopped him.

 

“Hello, son.”

 

Gabriel whirled around and stumbled back a step.  “D-Dad??” he let out, staring at the man.  No…no, it had to be…his ghost.  Shit.  He paled.  He couldn’t do this.

 

“Easy, Gabriel.  I’m no ghost.  Come, son.  It’s time you learn some truths you’ve forgotten,” Joshua said, holding out a hand to Gabriel.

 

Gabriel was bewildered, but…more than anything, he trusted the man that had raised him.  So he stepped forward, and took his hand.

 

There was a pulling sensation around his navel, a wrench, though not painful, in his lower stomach, and then…they were someplace else.  Gabriel yanked his hand free and stumbled.  “What…what was that?” he gasped out, swirling only to come face-to-face with the biggest tree he’d ever seen.  And warmest.  It felt…like home, somehow.  He stared at it in wonder, even as his father’s voice sounded behind him.

 

“Flying.  Teleporting, in a way.  This, son…has all your answers,” Joshua said, stepping up to the tree and putting his hand on it.  Gabriel wasn’t quite comfortable with that, and even less comfortable with the cylindrical looking blade his father was suddenly holding.

 

“What do you mean?  It’s a tr—” Gabriel started, but then his father had sliced through the bark with the blade, and a light, golden and brilliant, shown from inside.  It began to pool out into the air, twisting…and then it slammed into Gabriel.

 

Millenia of existence, information, memories…they flowed through him and filled every corner of his mind and body.  It was in snatches that he started to remember.

 

A fledgling at his side.  Saying to him, “Don't step on that fish, Castiel. Big plans for that fish,” as the fledgling looked on with such great curiosity.

 

An older brother teaching him how to make a shadow, a second image of himself.

 

Comfort, warmth, joy.

 

Agony, grief, fear.

 

Hiding from his home, from his siblings.  Watching the humans, the rise and fall of empires.

 

Wrath, the need for justice.

 

Giving justice.

 

Having fun, and then making his sense of humor come in to play to met out his justice.

 

Discovering that his way of feeling was different from the way the humans felt.

 

And then a memory, clear as a bell, surfaced.  Standing in Heaven, outside the gates.  Where he thought he’d be undetected.

 

He was going to Fall.  Become human.  Discover how they felt things.  His plan wasn’t perfect.  He didn’t know how he’d get his Grace back, if ever.  But he’d definitely made up his mind.

 

“It’s not going to be pleasant, you know,” a voice sounded behind him.  Gabriel turned with a frown, to see Joshua, the garden-keeper, standing there.

 

“Yeah…you don’t seem surprised to see me,” Gabriel responded, more than a little suspicious.  In response, the angel in the wizened vessel just chuckled.

 

“I’m not.  And I’m aware of your concerns…I wouldn’t want to die as a human, either.  So, I’m here to help,” he said.

 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.  “You’d do that?” he asked.

 

“I would.  I will,” the angel had responded.

 

\---

 

Gabriel came to his senses.  Joshua had kept his word.  He looked over, to see the other angel already gone.  Just as well.  Gabriel started immediately weaving his spells before anyone could detect him.  He was at risk where he was right now.

 

\---

 

He’d read the emails.  Knew what was going to happen.  Knew he had to stay out of it.

 

But then the emails stopped.  A few weeks passed without any email, when he usually got at least one a week.

 

So Gabriel popped in, invisible, and watched as the younger Winchester struggled to live past the death of someone he’d fallen in love with.

 

He could do nothing to stop the visions, but he helped ease the nightmares, slowly.

 

And then, Sam had had a dream.  A memory.  With Dean, and himself in it.  His soul and heart had eased with this dream…and Gabriel realized that he’d been a big part of Sam’s life.

 

Something in Gabriel swelled with warmth and elation, filling a despair he didn’t know had overcome him, hadn’t realized was there.

 

…It was time to see Sam again.

 

So he’d set himself up on their path.  He made himself into his old Trickster self once again.

 

He didn’t miss the pain and betrayal that flared in Sam’s soul when he was revealed to be their monster.

 

Nor did he miss the nightmares that terrorized him following their encounter.


	19. We Were Built To Fall Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where things start changing~~

_“Heat of the moment….”_

 

Sam sat up.  How many times now?  He flopped back down, not sure how many more times he could do this.  It was always different, always hurt, and he just…he couldn’t just make it _**stop**_!

 

They went to the diner again, and again, Sam was watching everything.  Trying to pick up some clue, and at the same time, debriefing Dean on what he’d learned about their missing professor.

 

“I just, it's just funny, you know, I mean, this guy spends his whole life crapping on Mystery Spots and then he vanishes into one. It's kinda poetic, you know, just desserts.”

 

“You're right, that is just desserts,” Sam responded as they stand, noticing that the man at the diner bar has abandoned his pancakes…his pancakes that have strawberry syrup.

 

“What's wrong?”  Dean asked, noticing Sam’s laser focus.

 

“Guy has maple syrup for the last hundred Tuesdays, all of a sudden he's having strawberry?”

 

“It's a free country. Man can't choose his own syrup, huh? What have we become?”  Dean responded, watching Sam give the man walking past the diner the stink-eye.

 

“Not in this diner. Not today. Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever. Except me.”

 

_“Heat of the moment….”_

 

Sam’s eyes snapped open.  Oh, he had him now.  He was going to get that sonuvabitch.

 

An hour later had Sam pinning the man to a chain-link fence, Dean watching on and trying to back up his little brother while still being confused about his brother being in the midst of his second-favorite Bill Murray movie.

 

“I know who you are. Or should I say, what!” Sam snarled, to the man’s indignant cry, holding a stake to the man’s throat.

 

“Oh my god, please don't kill me,” the man pleaded.  Sam was having none of it, though.  He was on to the ass-hat.

 

“Uh, Sam?” Dean let out a little uncertainly.

 

“It took me a hell of a long time but I got it,” Sam spoke, brushing Dean off.

 

“What?” the man squeaked.

 

“It's your MO that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts—your kind loves that, don't they?”

 

“Yeah, sure, okay,” the man spoke, casting a fearful glance to the stake Sam still wielded.  “Just put the stake down!” he pleaded.

 

“Sam, maybe you should—” Dean started, but Sam cut him off with a snarl.

 

“No! There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops—in fact you'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to be a Trickster,” Sam said decisively.  Dean shut up, casting a suspicious glance to the man pinned at the fence.

 

“Mister, my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name is Amelia, I got two kids, for crying out loud I sell ad space—”

 

“Don't lie to me! I know what you are! We've killed one of your kind before!” Sam snapped, even as pain lanced through him.

 

And then…then it was Gabriel in front of him.  Sam nearly dropped the stake.

 

“Actually, bucko, you didn't,” the Trickster taunted.

 

Relief, pain, grief, agony, betrayal, disbelief…it all flooded Sam in a confusing whirl as he stared into laughing amber eyes.

 

“Why are you doing this?” Sam spoke.  He wanted it to come out a demand, but it was broken.  He was at rope’s end.  For a second, just a quirk that must’ve been his mind playing tricks, he thought he saw a softness in the Trickster’s eyes before the god in front of him scoffed.

 

“You're joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?” he quipped.

 

Dean cast a glance at Sam, eyes flickering with concern before he scowled at the Trickster.

 

“And Hasselback, what about him?” Dean spoke.

 

“That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one,” Gabriel answered with a shrug, his eyes leaving Sam’s.  He laughed then, meeting Sam’s eyes again.  “Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town.”

 

“So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?” Sam spoke.  Again, it was meant to be a demand, but it wasn’t.  He hurt too much.  This…this wasn’t his best friend.  This wasn’t who he grew up with.  This wasn’t funny, this was cruel.

 

“One, yes. It is fun. And two? This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die, every day? Forever?” the Trickster quipped.

 

“You son of a bitch,” Sam breathed, trembling.

 

“How long will it take you to realize? You can't save your brother. No matter what,” Gabriel shot back.  The words were harsh, even if his gaze wasn’t as sharp as it had been.

 

“Then help me,” Sam said suddenly.

 

Gabriel froze.  “Wait, what?” he spoke, not expecting that.

 

“I don’t know what it was to you, or how you came to be this, but I grew up with you, Gabe,” Sam said, eyes, voice, posture—everything, begging.  “Help me…help us.  Please,” he pleaded.

 

Gabriel was frozen, staring…and then his eyes became hard.

 

“This isn’t fun anymore,” he spoke lowly.

 

“It wasn’t any fun for me, either,” Sam whispered.  He let the stake drop.  Dean took a step back, frowning in concern, but he’d grown up with Gabriel, too.  Gabriel’s eyes went to him, but drew back to Sam when Sam spoke again.  “I can’t kill you, can’t watch you die, again.  Please…help us, Gabe,” he pleaded.

 

Gabriel stared, then snarled out a, “Fuck,” and snapped his fingers.

 

“ _Promise me I'll be back in time!_ ” came from the radio, and Sam sat up.  Different song.  …It was Wednesday.  Dean was sitting on his bed, putting his shoes on.

 

“…I think it was a no, Sam,” he said finally.

 

Sam looked at Dean, more than a little heartbroken, but relieved that the string of Tuesdays was over.  “Yeah…guess so,” he said.  The boys packed up and left town, without further incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! I'll try to update again soon...I'm going on a two-week migraine, so sorry if this was cruddy u.u


	20. Then Fall Back Together

Dean died.  Ravaged by invisible hellhound claws.

 

Sam cried over his brother’s body.  Dug his grave, buried him, with the help of Bobby.

 

Invisibly, Gabriel watched.  Watched Sam drive off, sometime after Singer had left, then looked to the grave.  He knew that Dean would be back.  Still…he felt.  Father, but he felt.  In a way he hadn’t before….

 

It ached.  Dean had been a friend.  A brother, in a way.

 

He snapped, some time later.  Some time between Sam checking into a hotel, and between Sam making it into a hotel room.  He was torn, but ultimately decided staying unseen was his best bet.

 

He watched as Sam stayed there, a week of grieving.  Of alcohol, of music that was so unlike what he and Dean usually listened to.  One song he seemed to favor sang of migraines, but the lyrics seemed to match what was twisting inside Sam’s soul.

 

It was little surprise that when the Hell bitch showed up, he willingly and eagerly threw himself into her and the demon blood.  Gabriel stayed, watching when Sam drank.  Until it started being combined with sex, anyway.  That…for some reason, he couldn’t understand, he couldn’t watch that.  So he jumped the hell out of there right away.

 

He sat in one of his old places of worship…where people used to sacrifice to his pagan persona, to Loki.

 

A rustle of feathers showed him Joshua, some time later.  His father figure…his brother.

 

“What are you doing here?” Gabriel snarled.  And why was he reacting like this?  Why was he lashing out at a brother that had guided him through his life as a human, that had gone out of his way and protected him?  That had guided him back to his grace?

 

“Checking in.  You’re not what you once were, Gabriel.  Even though you’ve tried to go back to it, it’s not what it was, is it?” Joshua spoke.

 

Gabriel glared, but he couldn’t deny the words.  He took a deep breath, one he didn’t really need, and let it out.

 

“What’s wrong with me?”

 

“You were human.  You will never be the same as you once were.  You know the true depth of emotions now, and are still subject to them.  What’s more, what you had with those brothers?  Nothing is ever going to be able to pull you from that.  It will be your undoing, your end,” Joshua spoke, calm.

 

Gabriel couldn’t help but snort.  He couldn’t fathom that.  That he’d actually…that he’d wind up dying for those knuckleheads.

 

And yet, in the same instance…he knew it was true.  He’d easily take an archangel blade if it meant saving them.  The realization had his eyes snapping up from where they’d fallen to the grass.  He was sitting on the edge of his altar, but he slid off it now to stand on unsteady legs.  Fear was coursing through him…fear and horror at that realization.  He didn’t want to die.  And now, he could almost see it.  “Fuck.  I’m _fucked_ ,” he cursed.

 

Joshua chuckled at Gabriel’s abrupt crassness, but he nodded without the same humor.  “That you are.  So now…what are you going to do in the meantime?” Joshua asked.  He didn’t stick around for an answer.  He was gone after hardly a moment while Gabriel’s mind reeled.

 

And just as his mind calmed to start to make a plan, he felt it.

 

The first seal was broken.

 

\---

 

“You need to get ready.”

 

Sam spun, looking at Gabriel.  And then he frowned and looked back to the other Gabriel…the one from his childhood, from a birthday party where Sam had had pink hair.  He looked back at Gabriel.

 

“I’m dreaming.”

 

“You are,” Gabriel confirmed.

 

“You’re really here?” Sam questioned.

 

The dream faded and vanished, dissolving into a field of green, with a night of twinkling stars illuminating them.  Gabriel looked around, humming in approval at the scene, before looking back at Sam.

 

“That I am.  You need to get ready.  I estimate a month before Dean-o shows back up.”

 

Pain lanced through Sam and he grit his teeth.  “Dean’s not coming back, Trickster,” he spat out through his clenched jaw.

 

“Loki, if you must.  And he is.  I—” he started, but then halted, tilting his head as if listening to something.  There was a frown pulling at his lips, before he smirked.  “Actually, I’d put it at two weeks, max.  You need to get ready, Sam.  Because there’s going to be something new in tow.  Something that’s going to rip at you both, tear you apart.  More than that demon-blood fest you’ve got going on there,” Gab—Loki spoke.

 

Sam couldn’t help but snort.  “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it.  And why would you even care?”

 

Loki’s eyes flashed with…with so much.  Power, emotions that moved more quickly than Sam could catch.  The Trickster’s jaw tightened.  “I don’t,” he snarled.  And then he was gone and Sam was ripped awake.  Ruby lay asleep beside him, grumbling as he jostled the bed getting out of it.

 

Had Gabriel seen him in bed with her?  …Loki.  His name was Loki.  And what did it matter?  He was a Trickster.  Dean was in Hell, he wasn’t coming back.

 

But two weeks later, when Bobby and Dean showed up, he remembered Loki’s words first.  Hell, it was no coincidence he was near where Dean was buried.  Because a part of him had been hoping, however he tried to squash it, that Loki hadn’t been lying.

 

And he hadn’t.  Dean was here.  Dean was _here_!  But…but how??

 

It was a trick.  That damned Trickster…Loki!  Rage swelled in him and he lunged with a knife.  Ruby shrieked and…and wouldn’t a demon be able to see through a pagan god’s tricks?  He didn’t know, and couldn’t ask, in case this really was Dean and Bobby.

 

“Who are you?!” Sam roared out anyway.

 

“Like you didn’t do this?” Dean snapped back, making Sam shoot him a confused look as he fought against Bobby’s grip.

 

“Do what?” he shouted back.

 

“It's him. It's him. I've been through this already, it's _really_ him,” Bobby called to Sam.  Sam looked over at Bobby, then flicked his gaze back to Dean.  He relaxed under Bobby’s grip.

 

“What…”

 

Dean looked at him, cautious and careful.  Clearly expecting another dance here…which indicated Bobby’s words were true.  “I know.  I look fantastic, huh?”

 

Tears welled up in Sam’s eyes and he moved, pulling Dean into a desperate hug.  One his brother returned.  Finally, he pushed back, looking Dean over again, unable to believe his brother was here.  He was back, alive, whole!

 

“So are you two like... together?” Ruby suddenly cut in.

 

“What? No. No. He's my brother,” Sam said, wrinkling his nose at thinking of Dean that way.

 

“Uh... got it. I... I guess. Look, I should probably go…” she trailed off.

 

Remembering that Dean wouldn’t know Ruby in this body, and everything he’d been doing with her, Sam nodded.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Sorry,” he replied.

 

After Ruby was gone, and Dean had confronted Sam about making a deal.

 

“I tried everything. That's the truth. I tried opening the Devil's Gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right? You were rotting in Hell for months. For months, and I couldn't stop it. So I'm sorry it wasn't me, all right? Dean, I'm sorry,” Sam said.  Before Bobby and Dean could continue on, Sam looked down with a frown.  “But…” he started.

 

Dean froze, but waited.  Sam looked up, to the ceiling, shoulders slumping back with a heavy sigh as he stood there.  “A couple of weeks ago…Ga…the Trickster showed.  In my dreams.  Called himself Loki,” he said.

 

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Dean spoke.  Sam looked down at him.  “Do you think he—”

 

Sam shook his head.  “No.  Pretty positive he didn’t.  But he told me you were coming back.  Said I needed to…to get ready.  Said you were bringing something new, and that…that it was going to rip us apart.”

 

“Something new.  Balls!  That don’t sound any good,” Bobby cut it.  Sam and Dean just stared at each other.  They needed to tell him.

 

“Bobby…” Dean started.

 

“We’ve known Loki since before you met him at Crawford Hall,” Sam said.

 

Bobby looked back and forth between them for a moment, before making a gesture with his hands, silently saying, ‘ _Well?  Get on with it!_ ’

 

So Dean told him about the kid in Chicago, that they’d met a few times, with Sam cutting in every little bit.  How he’d aged with them, played pranks…and was one of the best and most solid friends that the hunters had had in their modge-podge adolescent years.

 

It left them all confused and pondering what Loki’s game was.  And how much truth they could put in his words.

 

Sam looked at Dean.  And he knew…he knew he trusted Loki.  Because it’d been almost exactly two weeks since the dream, and his brother was here.

 

Which begged the question…what was coming?  What had Loki been warning him about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took me so long to get made. I still have that migraine (it's been going on for over a month now...working with it has been a /bitch/). But this is probably one of the longest chapters I've written, on the upside! Hope I can update again so, but we'll see (I've got some other health issues going on, but I seem to be on the road to recovery with them now, so woot!). Later, all my precious lovelies! <3


	21. Oh, Your Necklace Hanging From My Neck

Bobby brought them to his friend, Pamela Barnes.  “Best damn psychic in the state,” he claimed.

 

She’s beautiful, too.  Dean instantly tries to flirt.  Sam resists rolling his eyes.

 

Soon enough, she has them sitting around the table, hand on the hand print on Dean’s bicep.  She’s calling out to something named Castiel.  Trying to see its face.

 

_Stop her._

 

“Loki?” Sam lets out, turning his head.  Dean’s attention snaps to Sam.  Pam isn’t paying them any mind, focused on Castiel.

 

“Sam?” Dean questions sharply.

 

_Stop her, Samsquatch.  Cassie’ll hurt her._

 

The candles flare up, and Sam doesn’t think.  He just yanks his hands from Bobby’s and Dean’s.

 

Pam’s eyes snap open and she glares at Sam.

 

“I almost had him!  What did you do that for?” she snapped.

 

Dean looked on with a disapproving frown, but also concern in his eyes.  Bobby was staring, too.  Sam frowned.

 

“…Loki….” he started, and Pam’s eyebrows went near into her hairline.

 

“Loki…Norse god of mischief?  What on Earth kind of attention are you boys drawing?” she asked, bewildered.

 

Sam shook his head and stood, walking out of the house.  His brother and Bobby stayed in the house.

 

“Loki?” he called out.  The voice had been in his mind, he knew that.  But he was hoping…maybe Loki would show, answer some questions.

 

No answer, though.  Sam sighed and shook his head.  The trickster god was being confusing as all-hell-get-out.

 

\---

 

Bobby and Dean had decided to go off, on their own, to summon Castiel.  Sam had protested.  Loki had told him that whatever this new thing was…whatever Castiel was, it would tear them apart.  He’d argued this with Dean, but Dean was more concerned about keeping his baby brother safe.  So Sam had been left behind.

 

With nothing else to do, Sam found himself wandering the busy farmer’s market of the large city.  There were all sorts of goods from farms on the outside of the city, as well as crafted items.  He had a few bags of fruits and veggies…not much, just enough to last a couple of days.  After all, they’d probably book it out of here when Dean and Bobby got back.  And then he spotted her.  A woman manning a table with all sorts of religious knick knacks on it.  Not just Christian, either.  There were pagan items on the table as well.  Gods, goddesses, represented in figurines, in jewelry.  Bumper stickers that said “Coexist” on them, with religious symbols integrated into the lettering.  Sam felt himself drawn over.

 

The woman was near to his height, with brown hair and green eyes that had a golden-honey tinge to them.  Her lips were twisted in a playful smile as she eyed him over.  “Well, hello there, handsome!  Anything here catch your eye?  Or are you just drawn by the blasphemy of my table?” she asked with a chuckle.  Sam found himself letting out a chuckle of his own.

 

“I’m guessing you’ve gotten a lot of talk over that blasphemy, huh?” he asked.  She nodded, not seeming repentant in the least.  Sam liked her.

 

“That I have.  But I get enough business to make up for it,” she responded, tone proud.

 

Sam’s eyes wandered the table.  He was definitely going to get one of those bumper stickers.  Not to put on the Impala.  Gods, no.  Dean would murder him, brother or not.  It’d go on his laptop.  He wondered if there was anything else he’d want, though, then his eyes halted on a stand holding necklaces.  They were thick black cords that held strange metal symbols on them.  Sigils, maybe, of some sort?  He didn’t recognize them, but…one of them drew him in.  He felt like he knew it.  Knew it, soul-deep.  “What’re those?” he found himself asking.

 

“Hm?  Oh, Enochian sigils.  Language of the angels.  These are angel names, to be specific,” the woman answered.

 

He pointed.  “And that one?  Which angel is that?” he asked, pointing.  The woman’s expression shuttered slightly before she touched one, holding it to where he could see it.

 

“This one?” she asked, tone curious.  Sam shook his head, nose wrinkling.  No, that one…he didn’t like that one, he knew.

 

Sam reached out, picking up the one next to it.  He almost felt something from it.  Like it was enchanted or something.  But that couldn’t be, right?  He looked it over as he spoke.  “No, this one,” he answered as he stared at it.

 

“Gabriel, the Messenger,” the woman answered.  Sam froze for a good few seconds.

 

“How much?” he found himself asking.  Whatever it had been to Loki…Gabriel had been his best friend.  He remembered the stained glass window, remembered pondering over whether he’d been named after the archangel.  Remembered…remembered how good his friend had been.  Even if it was all some cruel, twisted trick meant to hurt him in the end, he’d hold on to the good memories.

 

“For you, handsome?  Four bucks,” she replied.  Sam’s eyes darted to the stand.  That was less than half of the listed price.  He gave her a look, but murmured a thanks as he passed over the money.

 

“Feel an affinity for it, do you?” she asked as she stored the cash, watching Sam slip the necklace on.  It felt right…the cord and the weight of the metal.

 

“Uh…” Sam stuttered, then chuckled and shook his head, not willing to admit to it.  “Nah.  Reminds me of a childhood friend, that’s all,” he said.

 

The woman hummed an acknowledgement, though it seemed almost disbelieving.  Sam found his eyes wandering to the first symbol she’d pointed out.  It gave him a sense of unease.  Before he could ask, though, she answered.

 

“Lucifer,” she said.  Sam’s eyes snapped up, eyebrows raised.  The woman’s head tilted back with a bark of laughter.  “Yes, yes, let’s start in with the blasphemy diatribe,” she said, looking at him with twinkling eyes.

 

Sam relaxed and shook his head.  “It’s not so much that, as…it just felt off, when you pointed it out.  Weird, huh?” he said.

 

The woman looked surprised for a second, then smirked.  “Maybe you’re just a sensitive.  Anyway, anything else I can get for you, cutie?” she asked.  Sam felt himself flush, but got his bumper sticker and continued on.

 

\---

 

Angels.  Angels.  _Angels_!

 

It was unbelievable.  It was…amazing.  Sam was in awe.

 

Dean, though?  Less so.

 

“Well, then tell me what else it could be,” Sam huffed.

 

“Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel,” Dean groused.

 

Sam pursed his lips.  “Loki said something new.  Dean…this is new.  To us, anyway,” he said.

 

Dean paused, then scowled.  “And just how much trust can we put in a Trickster god, Sammy?” he snapped.

 

Sam stood, to his full height, towering over his older brother in a way he only did when he was not backing down.  “I trust him, Dean.  I’m the one he put through a hundred Tuesdays of misery, and I trust him!  So…I believe.  I believe that Castiel is exactly what he’s claiming to be,” he said.

 

Dean’s jaw clenched a few times before he huffed out a breath.  “Fine,” he muttered, looking over at Bobby.  Bobby had remained silent during the brothers’ argument, and was now eyeing Sam curiously.  His eyes went to Dean now, though.  “What do we know about angels?” Dean asked him.

 

Bobby moved, picking up a stack of books, setting them in front of Dean.  “Start reading,” he ordered.

 

Dean stared at the books, then sighed and looked at Sam.  “You’re gonna get me some pie,” he said.

 

\---

 

Sam bickered with Dean on the phone.  “Dude, when have I ever forgotten the pie.  …Exactly,” he said, climbing out of the car.  He blinked.  Ruby was there.  “I got to go.  Yeah, alright, bye,” he said, hanging up as he headed toward the demon.  “Ruby.”

 

“So, is it true?” she asked.

 

“Is what true?”

 

Ruby practically rolled her eyes.  “Did an angel rescue Dean?” she asked bluntly.

 

“You heard,” Sam said, a little surprised.

 

“Who hasn’t?” Ruby said, lips slightly pursed.

 

Sam frowned.  “According to our resources…it’s looking like it’s true,” he answered.

 

Ruby frowned.  “Resources?” she asked.

 

“Yeah, uh…a Trickster seemed to allege that this is the real deal,” Sam told her.

 

“The fuck?  You’ve got a freaking _pagan_ in your pocket?  Since when?” Ruby said, confused.

 

“Since—it doesn’t matter, what matters is that yes, it looks like an angel rescued Dean, and we’re working on figuring out just what this all means,” Sam retorted.

 

And then, Ruby looked near terrified.  “Okay. Bye, Sam,” she said, starting to walk off.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. What's going on?” Sam said, grabbing her arm and stopping her.

 

“Sam, they're angels. I'm a demon. They're not gonna care if I'm being helpful. They smite first, and then they ask questions later,” she told him.  Sam frowned, but it made sense.  And maybe Ruby had some answers.

 

“What do you know about them?” he asked.

 

“Not much. I've never met one, and I don't really want to. All I know is that they scare the holy hell out of me. Watch yourself, Sam,” she said.

 

“I'm not scared of angels,” he replied.  And he found he wasn’t.  Not with the…the ‘pagan in his pocket,’ as Ruby had put it.

 

\---

 

When he got back to Bobby’s, they had a case.  They found Olivia, then Jed.  Bobby suggested hightailing it back to his place.  Dean had let Sam take over driving, taking a siesta in the passenger seat.

 

“Wake up,” he heard.  Dean’s eyes snapped open.  The car was stopped.  Sam wasn’t in sight, but…Loki was.  Standing outside the Impala windshield, some fifteen or so feet in front of her.  Dean climbed out, frowning.  “Trickster?” he spoke.  Loki rolled his eyes, then made a gesture to the side of the gas station.  Dean followed the gesture, then looked back for answers…but Loki was gone.

 

Dean frowned, then remembered.  They were on a case with hunters being ripped open by spirits.  He swore, grabbed a salt-round-filled shot gun, and made it into the bathroom in time to blast away Victor-freaking-Henrickson, from throwing around his little brother.

 

\---

 

The Apocalypse.  Dean and Sam had noticed brands on the hands of their ghosts, and Bobby had found it was part of a spell to rise the Witnesses.

 

The word, Apocalypse.  It weighed heavy in Sam’s mind as they fought to undo the spell, to put Henrickson, Meg, Ronald, and the twins back to rest.  But they did it.

 

Castiel, who Sam had yet to meet, showed up while he was asleep, and gave Dean some info.  Info that Dean shared the following morning.  Sam felt sick to his stomach, but determined.  They’d fight this.  They’d stop Lilith.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, so soon after the last one! It's a miracle! Or a sign of the real end-of-times.... Who's going to be praying to Gabriel tonight?


	22. The Night We Couldn't Quite Forget

Sam hung up the phone from Dean’s message.

 

_Listen to me, you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well, I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam -- a vampire. You're not you anymore. And there's no going back._

 

Tears brimmed in his eyes.  He turned in time to catch a smirk of lips fading into an impatient look on Ruby’s face.  He ignored it, instead saying, “Do it.”

 

“Thank God,” Ruby muttered, opening the trunk to drag the nurse out.

 

A voice made them both pause, nurse included.

 

“Sam.”

 

Sam turned and stared.  Loki stood there, looking up into his eyes.  “You don’t know what you’re doing, Sam,” Loki spoke.

 

Sam hadn’t felt anything, had been in a limbo of emotions at the Trickster’s appearance, until he said that.  “I know exactly what I’m doing,” he snarled, as anger cut through the fog with a sharp intensity.  “I’m ending this, now.  I’m the only one that can!”

 

Loki’s eyes flashed with power and anger, and he opened his mouth to retort, but Ruby cut him off.  “This is cute, pocket pagan, but you don’t know anything about what’s going on, so butt out,” she snapped.

 

“Shut it, hell-bitch,” Loki snarled.

 

Sam stepped between them, glaring at Loki.  “Leave.  You made it obvious you wouldn’t help.  What are you doing here, anyway?  Toying with me to let the apocalypse happen?” Sam snapped out.

 

Loki’s eyes went back to Sam and he stared before raising his hand and snapping his fingers.  A weight vanished from Sam’s neck, the necklace dropping to the ground.  The one that he’d bought to remember his childhood friend by.  Sam blinked, his eyes falling to it.  …Had Loki known the significance of that necklace to Sam?  He looked back up to see Loki’s fury…fury he’d never seen before.

 

“I’m _**done**_ ,” Loki snarled, snapping again and vanishing.

 

A beat of silence followed.

 

“We’re running out of time, Sam,” Ruby reminded.

 

…He couldn’t leave the necklace.  It went into his pocket.

 

He drained the nurse with Ruby’s help.

 

He killed Lilith.

 

He discovered the horrifying truth of it.

 

He hadn’t known what he was doing.

 

He held Ruby while Dean killed her, and they watched the light shoot into the sky.

 

Then they were on a plane, seeing the light outside the window.  They didn’t know how they made it onto the plane.

 

\---

 

They rented a car, for once, instead of lifting one.  Sam flipped through some radio stations before shutting it off.

 

“Dean, look—,” Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

 

” Don't say anything,” Dean spoke.  He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again.  “It's okay. We just got to keep our heads down and hash this out, all right?”

 

Sam was quiet for a beat longer than norm.  Finally, “He was there.”

 

Dean blinked, glancing at Sam, and then back to the road.  “Who?”

 

“Ga…Loki.  He tried to stop me.  He knew…Dean, he knew.  He had to have.  I just…” Sam spoke, digging the necklace from his pants pocket and holding it in both his hands.  “I didn’t listen.  …He said he was done.”

 

Dean glanced at Sam again.  There was pain in his features.  Deep-seated.  His eyes went to his little brother’s hands, then back to the road.  “What’s that?”

 

“Enochian sigil.  I got it back when you and Bobby went to summon Castiel that first time.  …It’s Gabriel’s name,” Sam answered.

 

Dean glanced over again.  The cord was cut.  Not frayed or torn, but cut.  …Loki must’ve done it.

 

A thought occurred to Dean.  But to get any answers or make any plans on that, there was something else that needed to be done first.  They had to find the one angel they could trust, that had risked his bacon for them.

 

“Well, whatever. It's the least of our worries. We need to find Cas,” he said finally.

 

Sam nodded in agreement, tucking the necklace back into his pocket.

 

\---

 

So…Becky happened.  Yeah, that was an unlimited number of awkwards that Sam didn’t want to ever touch again.  Not with a twenty foot pole, let alone a ten foot one.  But they got Chuck’s message.

 

Bobby showed up and Sam confessed to him about popping Lucifer’s box.  His harsh words drove Sam from the hotel room.

 

When he came back, Bobby was bleeding on the floor, Dean was fighting a demon, and Meg was there.  Dean killed the demon he was fighting, and Meg smoked out of her meatsuit.

 

They got Bobby to a hospital, then made for their father’s lock up, hoping to reach it before the demons.

 

Both demons and angels had beat them there.

 

And Dean?  Dean was the Michael-sword.  Dean was Michael’s vessel.

 

Castiel showed up.  Killed the angels with Zachariah, and put the literal fear of God into the dickhead bureaucrat of an angel, and Zachariah vanished after putting Sam and Dean back to rights.  Then Castiel branded their ribs with sigils to hide them from angels, and damn if that didn’t hurt!

 

“Hey, Cas, were you really dead?” Sam asked as the pain began to fade.

 

“Yes,” the angel answered simply.

 

“Then how are you back?” Dean asked.  In lieu of an answer, Cas vanished.

 

They take care of the mess of the lock up, getting rid of the bodies, then head back to the hospital they left Bobby at.  Dean gave a speech about kicking angels and demons to another planet so humans can keep this one.  Bobby told Sam he’d been awake for his confession and wasn’t cutting him off, which took a load off Sam’s shoulders.

 

But in the parking lot, Dean confessed his speech had been for Bobby’s benefit.  And told Sam he couldn’t trust him anymore.  And that stung.  Hurt.  Ached.  It was an unfathomably deep hurt.  He watched Dean get in the Impala and paused.  He felt something, though he didn’t know what.  And smelled something, too…something familiar, though he couldn’t place it.  It was…chocolate, and cotton candy, and petrichor, all mixed into one.  Sam took a deep breath, finding the smell comforting, even if he didn’t know where it was coming from.  His life was…literal hell right now, but he took the comfort of an odd aura-of-smell, and then headed to get into the car with his brother.

 

Dean started driving, and Sam finally broached a subject they needed to talk about, because he hadn’t forgotten it.  “That voicemail…” he started.

 

Dean made a noise of curiosity, before the confusion left his face.  “You…you did get it?”

 

At the bitter noise that Sam made, he glanced over, seeing pain over his little brother’s features.  “The one where you said you were done trying to save me?  Yeah, I got it.  So I’m confused why you bothered showing up, anyway.”

 

“Wait, wait…what?  No, Sam, I…” Dean started, and then the confusion drained from his face and he let out a low, “Sonuvabitch.”  He cleared his throat.  “Sam…I don’t think you got the message I left you.  What did it say?” he said.

 

Sam shot a pained, confused, slightly hopeful look at his brother.  He cleared his throat.  “You, uh…you brought up how Dad said you had to kill me, and uh…” he started, licking his lips before continuing.  “Said I was a monster, and there was no going back.”

 

Dean’s hands clenched on the wheel.  It was several long moments before he finally spoke.  “The message I left…the message I left said that…that we’re family, that we’re brothers.  That I was sorry for what I said, Sammy,” Dean told him.  He thought over the message he’d left his little brother, and something in the set of his shoulders eased.  “I said that we’re family, and no matter how bad it gets, that doesn’t change.”

 

He glanced at Sam, to see his little brother looking at him with barely restrained hope.  Dean’s lips quirked before he looked back at the road.  Sam knew, with that…that somehow, they were going to be okay.


	23. When We Decided To Move The Furniture So We Could Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT WARNING  
> Also, uh...blood play, I guess? It's not graphic, by any means.

The necklace stayed in Sam’s pocket.  He didn’t fix it.  He could’ve.  He knew it was simple to fix that cord, or hell, just replace it.

 

But he didn’t.  Because…because he was no fool, and he knew he was placing a hell of a lot of symbolism on it.  But he held onto it.  Because he was holding on to the hope that he could make things right, that he could fix it.

 

His chance came sooner than he could have thought.

 

He had an inkling, when they spoke to the widow.  But the candy wrappers?  Yeah, that had him convinced.  When he showed them to Dean, Dean was quiet for a long moment, before deciding stubbornly, “Good. I've wanted to gank that mother since Mystery Spot.”

 

Sam couldn’t help the wounded noise that left him, and he attempted to cover it with a cough.  “You sure?” he asked.

 

Dean shot him a look.  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

 

“No, I mean, are you sure you wanna kill him?” Sam spoke.

 

“Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me a thousand times,” Dean bit out.

 

“Dean—” Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

 

“How long, Sam?” he asked, voice unusually quiet.

 

Sam froze.  His gaze had wandered to the table as he attempted to argue his points on this, and he didn’t dare lift his gaze to his brother now.

 

“What?” he asked of Dean quietly, voice careful.  He wasn’t exactly sure just what Dean was asking.  And if he was asking what Sam thought—was afraid he was asking…how was Dean going to react?  React to his little brother not being 100% straight…react to Sam falling for yet something else that they hunt.  And God, it was stupid, but it was Loki, who’d actually tried to help them here and there, and it was _Gabriel_!  **Gabriel** , who they’d grown up with, more or less.

 

“Sam,” Dean’s voice spoke, stern.  Demanding an answer, and drawing Sam back from his rampant thoughts.

 

“God, Dean,” Sam choked up, still unable to look up at him.  “I…I don’t know, okay?  I just…can’t…I can’t give up on him.  I can’t, Dean.  And maybe…maybe we can talk him into helping us.  If not because of…of whatever we were when we were kids, then maybe because he’s….  Because he’s a Trickster, a Hugh Hefner type.  Doesn’t want the party to stop, to end.  Maybe he hates this angels and demons stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us.  He’s one of the most powerful creatures we’ve ever met, after all,” Sam argues.  He finally risks a look up at Dean.

 

Dean’s displeased…but he’s not angry.  He’s not disgusted.  He’s contemplative.  Finally, he breaths out a long, heavy huff of air.  “Alright.  It’s Gabe, right?  We can try,” he agrees.

 

Still, Dean prepares wooden stakes, because he’s not willing to risk that the Trickster isn’t going to fuck them over.  …And he’s still bitter over the hundred or so deaths that he can’t remember.  But he knows Sam remembers, and how he flinches every time he hears Heat of the Moment.  Dean had to toss two different mix tapes because of that.

 

A call comes over their scanner.  An officer or deputy, sounding sufficiently freaked out, calling for all the backup he can get.

 

And yet, when Sam and Dean show up at the warehouse where the call supposedly originated…there wasn’t a single cop car around.  Sam shot Dean a look, and Dean only nodded in acknowledgement.  It was a trap, of that they were both sure.  But they grabbed their gear and walked in anyway.

 

And then Sam was alone.  There was some source of light above, but he was in a vast, empty, and mostly dark room.  Dean wasn’t in sight, and Sam’s hands were empty.  He reached for his gun.  There.  And so were his knives.  And the necklace in his pocket.

 

“Kept that, did you?”

 

Sam looked up from his hand, where he’d pulled the necklace out to ensure it was still there.  Loki stood in the center (?) of the room.  Some ten feet straight in front of Sam.  Sam pushed the necklace back into his pocket.

 

“Where’s Dean?” he asked in lieu of an answer, his heart pounding a bit harder than usual.

 

“Tucked away.  Sleeping, essentially.  Completely unaware, and not even suffering his usual hell-dreams,” Loki answered, as if it didn’t matter one little bit.  And it probably didn’t, not to him.

 

Sam nodded slowly, relaxing a bit.  “We…we wanted to talk to you, Loki.  We—”

 

“Hm, let me guess. You two muttonheads broke the world, and you want me to sweep up your mess.  How about…no?” Loki cut in.

 

Sam flinched, but didn’t give up.  “Come on, man.  It’ll be the end of the world.  No more humans to play around with.  Is that what you really want?” Sam pleaded.

 

“I told you, I am **done** ,” Loki said, eyes taking on a hard glint.

 

And in that moment, Sam was glad Dean wasn’t there, that he was sleeping somewhere else.  Because Sam had a backup plan (come on, when didn’t he have a backup plan?).

 

“Not even for a willing sacrifice?  I can’t imagine you get many of those these days,” Sam tempted.

 

Loki’s eyes lost their hard edge, and everything about him slackened in shock.  “What?” came from his throat, almost sounding choked out.

 

Sam dove in, wanting to iron out the details on this before the god before him could reject the offer.

 

“You help us avert this apocalypse, let me cut ties with Dean…and I’ll forfeit my life to you, willingly,” Sam spoke easily.

 

Loki eyed him, then snorted.  Sam’s heart dropped.  Loki had to accept…Sam had to put the world back to rights!

 

“Yeah, no…I don’t do living human sacrifices, kid,” Loki spoke, rolling his eyes.  He eyed Sam, then looked into his eyes with a leer.  “I do like blood, though…and virgins.  And you?  You’re no virgin.  And your blood is tainted as it comes.  Sure, you haven’t touched the hard stuff since popping ol’ Luci from his box, but it’s still roiling around in there, even if it’s no longer affecting you.”

 

“There…” Sam started, feeling hopeless.  He shut his eyes, his head hanging.  His hands went into his pockets as he fought the urge to cave in on himself.  “There has to be something…” he spoke pleadingly.

 

He didn’t hear Loki move, so when he felt a soft touch on his cheek, his eyes snapped open in startled surprise.  Loki was there, his hand touching Sam’s face.  He looked…pensive?  And then his eyes, his irises, were shining a warm gold.

 

“I accept your sacrifice,” he said suddenly.  A power snapped out and coiled around Sam, making him gasp and almost making his knees buckle.

 

“W-what…?” he breathed out.

 

There was a shifting of air near where Loki had been standing moments earlier.  Sam’s eyes shifted to take in the new item in the room and he swallowed tightly.  An altar, stone and large.  The sides were covered in runes and…something else.  Another language that Sam could’ve sworn he had seen before.

 

Before he could inspect it too much, Loki’s fingers pressed harder into his cheek, snapping his attention back to the trickster god.  “Still willing for me, Samoose?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips, despite the seriousness of his eyes.

 

Sam swallowed again.  “Yes, but…I thought I didn’t meet the criteria?” he choked out quietly.  Loki gave a snort and a half-shrug.

 

“Like you said…not getting much in the way of sacrifices these days.  You’ll more than do for this.  Strip, and get on the altar,” Loki ordered.

 

Sam’s heart was racing, but he moved to obey.  He pulled off his flannel overshirt and fumbled for a moment before deciding to just let it drop to the ground.  The rest of his clothes met the same fate, being left to the floor, and Sam moved, finally turning to face Loki, not surprised to see the god watching him from where Sam had left him.  He moved and sat on the side of the altar, a quiet hum of surprise coming from his lips as he discovered that, despite the it being made of stone, the altar was soothingly warm, and not cold.

 

Loki started forward when Sam sat down, and Sam found his heart speeding up again where it’d barely started to calm.

 

“Lay back, Sam,” Loki commanded calmly.  Sam tried not to tense, tried to keep calm, and did as Loki ordered.

 

Between one instant and the next, the god was above him, and…and his clothes were gone.  Sam’s eyes went down to confirm Loki’s nakedness, and his eyes landed on a thick, heavy erection hanging between them.  His eyes, wide with trepidation, snapped back up to the trickster’s face.  Loki smirked and chuckled warmly.  “Relax.  Just think of this like a one-night stand, kiddo.  With the benefit of having a friend for the end of the world,” he said.

 

Sam nodded mutely.  Still, he flinched in surprise when he felt Loki’s hand caressing over his side.

 

…God, he didn’t know if he could do this.  He already felt something towards Loki.  And latching on to that thought, he found himself blurting out, “What was with our childhood?  Or…mine and Dean’s, I guess?”

 

Loki stilled, brow furrowing for a moment before he shrugged.  “I was curious,” he said smoothly, eyes on his hand that was just under Sam’s ribs now, starting to move over his stomach.  Sam’s breath hitched at the touch, arousal finally beginning to pool in him.

 

“Play with your food a lot, don’t you?” Sam spoke, his tone meant to be teasing, but coming out just a bit breathy, too.

 

Playful eyes met his and Loki leaned down, pausing over Sam’s chest.  “Absolutely,” he answered, voice full of conviction before he nipped at Sam’s right nipple.  Sam hissed, arching slightly, his breathing picking up speed as his cock finally began to show interest.

 

“I keep trying to…to think of you as Loki,” Sam confessed, a moan stuttering out of him as the god worked over the nub between his teeth.  “…Sorry if I wind up saying the wrong name,” he added, holding no illusions that he wasn’t going to wind up moaning during all of this.  Especially if Loki was caring enough to get Sam’s body into the game for this.

 

He was rewarded with a chuckle against his skin and Loki’s hand moving to his lower stomach, just above his slowly filling cock.  His free hand suddenly curled over Sam’s right hip, just as his mouth moved to his left nipple, and the hard, possessive grip had Sam jolting and moaning more freely.  Loki paused, eyes darting up for a moment.

 

And then the god was dragging his other hand to Sam’s left hip, gripping it just as tightly and pulling Sam back and up, their cocks rubbing together.  Sam hissed and arched, his mouth working for a moment.  “Loki,” he moaned out, finally.  His cock was definitely hard by now, his body fully in the game.

 

There was a snap, shortly after the god moved one of his hands from Sam’s hips.  And then there was a finger rubbing around his entrance, slick with warmed lube.  Sam’s breath stuttered and he tried to relax.

 

“Sam,” Loki spoke, as his finger breached.  Sam fought not to tense as he looked up at his trickster god, trying to focus.  Because Loki’s tone said there was something he wanted to tell him.  When their eyes met, there was concern in the god’s gaze.  “The kind of ritual we’re doing is, in a way, a contract,” he spoke.  Sam’s head swam with the information, trying to grasp onto it.  It didn’t help that Loki crooked his finger, now deep enough to hit his prostate.  Sam’s back bowed as a wordless shout left him, his hands scrabbling with air for a second before grabbing onto Loki’s arm and shoulder, pressing in tightly.

 

“Y-Yeah?” Sam breathed, eyes meeting Loki’s again.

 

Loki’s pupils were blown wide, and a smirk played on his lips.  “Yeah.  …It means a blood exchange, kiddo.  You don’t have to take much.  And it’s not addictive, I promise you, on everything I am and ever have been,” he said.

 

Sam was quiet for a moment, processing that, even as Loki pressed a second finger in and stroked his prostate again to help ease the slight burn.  Sam jolted and panted, curled up and moving to bury his face against the trickster’s neck.  “I…I have to drink i-it?” he stuttered out, letting out a short moan.

 

“Yeah.  Still willing?”

 

How could he be unwilling with the way Loki was working his body right now?  His fingers were still tight on his hip, and that…that felt good in a way Sam could never hope to articulate.  And Loki’s fingers in him?  “Still willing.  You’re the one that has to drink tainted human blood,” he shot back.

 

“It’s worth it,” Loki spoke.  Sam blinked, about to look up at him, but then, Loki did…something.  Something to Sam’s prostate, and it was a whole new level of stimulation.  Sam clutched tighter to Loki, practically screaming in the wave of pleasure that hit him.

 

“Now!  Now, please, please, _please_.  Loki, _**please**_!” Sam babbled, pleading as he nuzzled his face under Loki’s jaw.

 

“Shhh, Sam.  Let go and lay back,” Loki spoke, voice almost gentle.  Sam did as bid, almost hesitantly.

 

Loki’s fingers left Sam, and it was a hard thing to not whine at the emptiness.  But then the god’s length was pressing at that entrance and Sam breathed in deep, willing his body to relax.

 

It was a long, slow press.  Long, and unrelenting, until Loki was fully seated in him.  His cock filled Sam so completely that there would be no need for him to angle into him—he was pressed solidly against Sam’s prostate.  Every single movement was going to light up the nerves inside the gland and give Sam pleasure.

 

With his cock buried in Sam, and both hands free, they went back to that hard, bruising, possessive grip on his hips.  Sam squirmed and whimpered, before thrusting his hips back into Loki in a silent entreaty for the god to move.

 

And move he did.  Hard, fast, and with a feral growl leaving the god’s lips.  The sound spurred Sam, and he curled upward as much as he could, one hand gripping Gabriel’s bicep, the other on the back of his neck, and then he was biting a kiss against his lips.  At first, it didn’t seem the god would respond, but then he was kissing back, hot and as possessive as his grip.

 

How long they kissed, how long their bodies moved together, Sam wasn’t sure.  But that same stimulation that Gabriel had given him earlier sparked again and Sam gasped away from the kisses.  “Gabe!  Oh, _God_!” he cried out, scrabbling and trying to hold on to him.

 

Loki’s eyes gave an earthly sort of glow.  “Give me your wrist, Sam,” he commanded, breath and voice ragged.  Sam barely processed the order, but did as bid, knowing what his god wanted.  He held his wrist to Gabriel’s lips, crying out in pleasure-pain as Loki bit in, breaking flesh and drinking the blood.  One of his hands came up, his wrist pressing to Sam’s lips, and Sam quickly mimicked the actions.  His vision went white with the taste of the blood, his orgasm spilling through him.  It was barely unexpected…he’d been riding the edge already.

 

When he came to—and holy hell, had he actually blacked out?—Loki was still on top of him, though no longer in him.  The god’s arms were crossed over Sam’s chest and he was watching Sam wake.

 

“You won’t remember this, kiddo,” Loki suddenly told him.  Sam jolted and frowned.

 

“What?  But—”

 

“You can’t.  Not for what I have planned.  I will keep my word, Sam.  Trust me?”

 

Sam didn’t hesitate.  “Yes,” he said.  When Loki’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and incredulity shining in them, Sam sighed.  “I know I shouldn’t.  But I do, G—Loki.  If I can’t remember this…any of it, that’s okay.  I trust you’ll follow through on this.  I trust you.”

 

Loki was quiet.  And then he snapped.  The necklace was in his hand, cord fixed…and on the back side of it, there were runes now.  Sam reached up and took it, looking from the metal to Loki’s face.  “…I wish I could remember this.  Because I would remember how important it is to listen to you.  I mean, I know already, but this…emphasizes that, I think,” Sam said quietly.

 

“Yeah, well…can’t really blame you for not listening, kid.  I told you I wouldn’t help, and then I kinda did.  I told you I was done…and yet, here I am.  I’m kinda duplicitous.  So don’t take blame for that, alright?  Now…time to get the show on the road.”

 

Sam barely had time to slip the necklace on before Loki snapped his fingers and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that's definitely the longest chapter I've done. Near to 3k on words! Woo!


	24. Baby Like We Stood A Chance

“Really? Because I swore part of what makes Dr. Sexy, sexy, is the fact that he wears cowboy boots. Not tennis shoes,” Dean snarled at the man pinned against the wall.

 

“Yeah. You're not a fan,” Sam spoke, smirk on his lips.

 

“It’s a guilty pleasure!” Dean snapped back, practically whining the words.

 

\---

 

“Is he screwing with me? I-I…I can't speak Japanese,” Sam stuttered.

 

A buzzer went off.  The host said some more words, then, “Ruby!”  The host then looked at Sam and spoke gravely.  “I’m sorry, Sam Winchester.”

 

“Sorry?  Sir…for what?” Sam spoke, not sure he wanted to know.

 

The host made a motion like he was hiding a laugh behind his hand.

 

“Dean?” Sam let out nervously, starting to glance nervously toward his brother.  …Then he had a crotch full of bowling ball.  Painful bowling ball.

 

\---

 

“I’ve got…genital herpes,” Sam huffed out, completely done with the Trickster’s games already.

 

\---

 

“Hiya, Castiel!” Loki spoke with a bright smile.  Sam stared.  Something in that smile looked genuinely happy.  Cas looked at him and Dean, duct tape on his mouth, trying to communicate something, but a wave of Loki’s hand, and he was gone in a blitz of TV static and white noise.

 

“You know him?” Sam asked.

 

He’s ignored in favor of Dean’s outburst of, “Where did you just send him?”

 

“Relax,” Loki spoke with a lazy wave of his hand.  “He’ll live.  …Maybe,” he tagged on, with a carefree smirk.

 

“All right, you know what? I am done with the monkey dance, okay? We get it,” Dean snapped.

 

“Yeah?  Get what, hotshot?” Loki spoke.  Sam remained quiet.  He was reading Loki.  Dean was good at this, but when it came to Loki, Sam was better.  Especially given the information that Castiel had given them so far.

 

Missing for days, he’d said, back when he appeared at the game show.  More powerful than a trickster, just now.  …And then there was Sam’s necklace.  It was repaired, and on.  He sucked in a sharp breath.

 

It stopped Dean’s next words, and drew the gaze of both his brother and Loki.

 

“Sam?” Dean spoke.

 

Loki quirked an eyebrow, a smirk twisting his lips that dared him to speak.

 

Sam didn’t look or Dean, or speak to him.  “Who are you?” he spoke, instead addressing Loki.

 

Dean’s gaze snapped back to the trickster god, eyes sharp as he tried to assess what his brother was seeing.

 

Loki’s grin was twisted, eyes dark and challenging.  “You know,” he spoke, words lilting in a sing-song tone.  “C’mon Sammy…why don’t you say it?”

 

Sam shook his head.  He didn’t want to believe it.  How much of his life was going to be played by the largest forces of Earth?  So instead of responding the way Loki…the way Gabriel wanted, he decided to push himself into saying the words himself.

 

“You’re an angel.  So which one are you? Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?” he snarked back.

 

There was a flash of temper from Gabriel, and Dean was tense after Sam’s words.  But the set vanished on them, leaving them in the warehouse.  “Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.”

 

Sam didn’t react.  Not externally.  Not beyond looking down at the ground between them and giving a nod, lips pressing together in a thin line.

 

Dean, however?  “The…the archangel Ga….  You sonuvabitch,” he snarled.

 

“Dean,” Sam spoke, tone even, cutting off his brother before he could start ranting.  Sam brought his eyes up, staring just to the left of Gabriel’s head, not meeting his eyes.  “Give us Cas back,” he said.

 

There was a stretch of silence.  Dean drew in breath to speak again, and then Gabriel snapped and Cas was there.  Sam didn’t wait for anything else.  He turned and headed for the door.

 

A scuffle of steps sounded.  “Stay away from him,” he heard Dean snarl behind him.  Sam ignored it and got outside, pausing between the warehouse and Impala as he waited on his brother and friend.

 

His hand found and circled the necklace hanging from his neck and he tugged it up and off, staring at it.  He wanted to drop it, to throw it, to…break it, though that metal was too firm for such a thing.

 

But he didn’t.  Because Cas had been searching for them for days, and Sam and Dean hadn’t even been in the TV land for a full day yet.  …Something had happened.  Something that had made Gabriel repair the cord, and carve runes into the necklace pendant.

 

He clutched it hard for a moment as he heard his brother and their angel come out of the warehouse, then tugged the necklace back on.  He didn’t look at them as he moved to get into the Impala.

 

\---

 

Sam sunk heavily onto the side of the hotel room bed.  Dean walked in and shut the door behind him.  Cas had already taken back off in his search for God, leaving just the two of them.

 

“Sam…” Dean started.

 

“He had to have been Fallen,” Sam cut in, staving off whatever Dean wanted to say.

 

Dean was quiet for a moment before accepting the redirect.  “Shit.  …But why?”

 

“Same reason as Anna?  I don’t know.  But that’s the only thing that makes sense to me right now.  That explains…growing up with him.  I mean…that’s…that’s gotta be it, right?” Sam spoke, finally looking up at Dean.

 

Dean stared at his little brother.  Finally, he nodded.  But then he grimaced.  “But then, what’s with this whole ‘Loki’ deal?”

 

“Cas…before he took off, in the car…didn’t he say something about thinking Gabriel dead?  Maybe…before he decided to Fall, he hid?  With the pagan pantheon or something?” Sam theorized with a shrug.

 

“I don’t know man.  You always got him better than I did.  I mean, sounds plausible enough.  But why?”

 

Sam was quiet for several long moments before he nodded slowly.  “His brothers fought.  Did you see how happy he looked when he saw Cas?  Saw one of his siblings?  Family always meant a lot to him, even if what he had with Joshua was so small.  Seeing Michael and Lucifer fight?  It probably was more than he could take.”

 

“And yet he wanted us to say Yes,” Dean quipped bitterly, finally sinking onto the side of his bed.

 

“To get it over with.  Think about it Dean.  When Dad and I fought, what did you want more than anything?  For it to stop.  For it to be over.  That’s all Gabe wants.  Is for it to be over.”

 

“No relying on him, then,” Dean muttered with a huff.  “I need a beer.  Wanna hit the bar?”

 

Dean, to his credit, waited patiently during the long two minutes it took before Sam finally nodded, and the two left the hotel to seek out some booze.

 

Sam hadn’t corrected Dean on his assumption about aide from Gabriel…but he wondered.  He brushed the tips of his fingers over the pendant around his necklace, and wondered what it was his childhood friend had planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to sincerely thank y'all for the comments from the last chapter. They made happy things happen in my heart <3


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